Veni, Vidi, Vici
by Ph0enixS0ng
Summary: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered. What if you fell in love with someone you're supposed to hate? Is it worth risking everything for, even if that involves your very life? Harry, Draco slash.
1. Chapter I

**Title: **_Veni, Vidi, Vici_

**Author:** _AznEyes (co-written with Jackal)_

**Rating:** M

**Genre:**Romance Suspense

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling

**Summary:** What if you ever fell in love with someone you're supposed to hate? Is it worth risking everything for, even if that "everything" involves your very life! Harry, Draco slash.

**Author's Note: **I'm not too sure what the rating is supposed to be. I put "M", just in case, for language and . . . other things. Just as a side note, the title is Latin for "I came, I saw, I conquered". The story begins during the summer before Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts.

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**( Chapter I )**

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Draco hadn't listened.

Despite his father's countless warnings that venturing forth into Knockturn Alley alone was folly, the teen hadn't believed him, convincing himself that he would be able to take care of himself no matter what happened. After all, he wasn't about to go into his seventh (and final) year at the renowned Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for nothing.

No. With the knowledge he had learned, he planned on making something of himself. Maybe he'd be able to become the next Head of the Department of Mysteries, or maybe even the Minister of Magic! Whatever happened, though, Draco knew that—as a Slytherin—he had the determination to do anything. _Surely _he'd be able to defend himself against petty alley fights.

He had been wrong.

Knockturn Alley wasn't christened so for no reason. It was a dangerous place to enter, even if one was to be accompanied by such an authoritative figure like Lucius Malfoy. No. The half-crazed, mutant beings of Knockturn Alley took kindly to no one and looked out for nobody but themselves. They had no reason to, and there were certainly enough of them to hold their own against a "former" servant of Lord Voldemort, given the right opportunity.

Thus, seeing the only son and heir of Lucius Malfoy (though in their deranged minds, his identity didn't process entirely) had been nothing short of a dream; a well-dressed young man walking alone down their alleyway. That was nothing if not their perfect opportunity . . .

For ransom? For pleasure? To this day, nobody really knows.

Not that it really mattered, of course. Just that it happened.

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Draco Malfoy had been carelessly making his way down Knockturn Alley, intent on finding some unicorn blood for a new potion that he was creating. He may have been a cold-hearted fiend, but he hadn't had the heart to slay one on his own, although—truthfully—this method was little better. While he had been preoccupied with the various items situated outside the store windows, he hadn't noticed that a small cluster of deformed figures had been drawing steadily nearer. It was not until they were practically on top of him that he turned around.

'Excuse me,' he said smoothly, not really caring. He was a Malfoy, after all. Why should _he_ bother himself with worry for these lowlifes?

The witch in front of him grinned, her rather slimy teeth causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

'I don't believe you heard me. I said, "Excuse me",' Draco repeated. 'As in the nice way of saying, "Leave me the bloody hell alone!"'

'Oh, I heard you the first time,' she replied in a hoarse voice.

Not quite understanding her intent, the youth tried to sidestep the woman in front of him, immediately finding himself nose to nose with one of her companions.

'Get out of my way!' he ordered.

'We don't take orders from no one,' the man said. The dullness in his voice strongly reminded Draco of Crabbe, or maybe Goyle.

Ah, Crabbe and Goyle. He wished that they were there with him now. _They_ would show these little freaks what the meaning of pain was.

'Well, you'll take orders from _me_!' Draco snapped. 'Do you not know who I am? I'm Draco Malfoy!'

'We know who you are.'

'Oh, good, then you also know that you have no right to treat me like this!'

'We'll treat you however we want to,' another man responded.

'Though not too harshly, of course,' said the witch.

'Of course not,' replied the former. 'He's too pretty for that.' He reached out to stroke Draco's cheek. The latter instantly recoiled, backing away from them . . . right into a wall!

"Bloody hell!"

'Don't touch me!' he screamed in panic, whipping out his wand. He pointed the tip at them threateningly, mentally going through a list of curses in his head. None of them, however, seemed bad enough for this lot.

'Now, now, there will be none of that,' said another one of their companions, gracefully extracting her own wand. 'Just because we live here doesn't mean we don't know nothing about magic.'

Draco groaned, realizing that he was trapped. Even if he did manage to perform a spell or two, none of the ones in his mind seemed powerful enough to get rid of them all. It was just his rotten luck that's he'd blank out now of all times. The best that he could do was blind them with a flash of light and run away, hoping he'd be able to make it back to Diagon Alley before they caught him. It wasn't too far; he wouldn't have to outrun them for long.

'_Lumos maximus_!' he exclaimed.

A flash of white light erupted from his wand, immediately drawing from them the desired effect. Crying out in surprise, the group clapped their hands over their eyes to shield them from the sudden glare.

Realizing that he had but seconds to escape, Draco shoved his way past them and started sprinting down the alley.

Not a few moments later, he heard the witches and wizards shooting spells at him with their wands; he had even felt a few grazing past him. Knowing that he only had seconds to spare, Draco randomly shot spells over his shoulder, hoping that they would find their targets.

Too late, he noticed a stray garbage can impeding his path. He attempted to leap over it at the last moment, but his shoelaces got caught on its ragged edge and he immediately fell to the ground, his wand slipping from his hand. Tears welled up in his eyes when he felt the sharp pain in his knees; it didn't take him long to realize that they were practically _gushing_ blood.

"DAMN!" he cursed inwardly. He desperately tried to get back on his feet, but the pain in his legs was too unbearable.

The horrid beings soon caught up to him and looked down upon him with gleeful eyes.

'That wasn't very nice, darling,' one of the witches scolded, pointing at him with a gnarled finger.

Draco glared at her defiantly, but said nothing. There was nothing left to do; he was trapped. He thought he'd be able to handle a situation like this by himself, but he couldn't. His father was right! Why hadn't he listened? Why did he _never_ listen!

And all of this was just for a vial of unicorn blood . . .

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'Ron! Hurry up!' Harry called, pounding on the door to the bathroom.

He and Ron had decided to stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the week. Though Harry had been welcomed to the Burrow for the entire summer (as always), he couldn't help but feel that he was intruding somehow and had decided to leave early and go to the Leaky Cauldron for the last week. It was only a short time, but if it would help to ease his conscience, then he would do it. Ron had decided to go along with him, saying something about visiting Fred and George and seeing how their business was coming along lately.

'Come on, Ron!' Harry said. 'I promised the twins that we would meet them for lunch at 12!'

It was already a quarter past twelve, but that hardly mattered. Harry had a feeling that Fred and George were going to be "fashionably late" anyway.

'Ron!'

'I'm coming!' Ron exclaimed. 'Just give me a few more minutes.'

Well, needless to say, a "few" minutes turned into thirty. Harry had been sitting on the bed with his arms crossed irritably over his chest, impatiently waiting for his friend to emerge from the bathroom. Ron was taking an awfully long time to get ready. It wasn't like he was going to see anyone special today, just Fred and George! So why—

'Harry?' came his best friend's tentative call from behind the closed door. 'I have a problem.'

'And it took you thirty minutes to admit it!' Harry rolled his eyes.

'Well . . . uh . . . it's kind of embarrassing.'

'Why? Is your fly stuck or something?'

'Not exactly.'

'Fine. Then whatever it is, I'm sure that you can use magic to fix it.'

'Well, that's kind of ironic,' Ron said miserably. 'Because . . . um . . . it was magic—' he finally opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom, '—that did this to me in the first place.'

Harry literally felt his jaw drop open.

Ron's hair, instead of being its usual red (the trademark sign of a Weasley) was now _blond_! Platinum blond, to be exact.

'What did you _do_!' Harry exclaimed, desperately trying to restrain his laughter . . . and cracking no less than two ribs as a result of that.

'I'm sure it's pretty obvious,' Ron said sarcastically. 'Harry! Look at me! I'm a freak!'

'What? I wouldn't say that. You kind of look like Malfoy, and he isn't all that bad looking.'

Ron's facial expression was between a mixture of pure revulsion and shock.

"Damn," Harry cursed himself. "Why did I have to say that?"

In a poor attempt to ease the sudden tension, Harry suddenly burst out laughing.

'Come on, Harry, it's not funny!' Ron said indignantly.

But now that he had started, Harry couldn't _stop _laughing! It wasn't that Ron looked bad or anything. Actually, the colour seemed to suit him quite well. It was just . . . different—_really_ different—to see him that way.

'Stop laughing!' Ron said indignantly.

'I'm . . . sorry!' Harry replied, gasping for breath and clutching his now-pained stomach. 'But you look so . . . so . . .'

'You can say it—queer!'

'No, you look pretty good, actually.'

'You mean it?'

'Yeah,' Harry responded. 'I really am sorry about laughing. It's just different from what you usually look like, you know.'

'You really think it looks okay?' Ron asked, glancing at himself in the bathroom mirror.

'Definitely.'

'Oh, that's good. When I made the potion, it wasn't until afterwards that I realized I had goofed and put in more newt tails than crocodile tongues, when the instructions _clearly_ said not to.'

Harry wrinkled his nose in revulsion. Newt tails? Crocodile tongues? So . . . what? Did Ron actually _drink_ that stuff, or was the potion only to be used externally as a shampoo or something? Neither way seemed appealing.

'I was trying to make my hair light brown or something,' Ron continued, thankfully oblivious to Harry's thoughts, 'but as you can see, I made it a little _too_ light; almost silvery. I've always been hopeless with potions.'

'Aren't we all? Can I just ask you something, though?'

'Obviously, you just did, but go ahead.'

'_Why _did you want to dye your hair?'

'Oh . . . I . . . er . . . I wanted to impress Hermione.' Having said this, Ron's face flushed crimson with embarrassment.

'Hermione? Well, good. It's about time that you realized how much you like her.'

'Erm . . . Yeah . . .' his friend replied shyly, blushing even darker (if possible). 'Do you think she'll like it?'

'Well . . . I'm not saying that she _won't_, but I think that she already liked you just the way you were,' Harry said. 'I don't see why you felt that you had to change for her.'

'It's our last year at Hogwarts, Harry. I'm the oldest Weasley in the school now, have been since Fred and George left.'

'So?'

'_So _maybe I don't want to be known as just that anymore.'

'I don't get it. You're not ashamed of your family, are you? Because that sounds more like something out of Malfoy's mouth, not yours.'

'I know! Ugh! Don't remind me. Why do you keep mentioning him, anyhow?'

Honestly, Harry didn't know. The blond had been on his mind all day, and he had no idea why. Was this, perhaps, a foreshadowing of something that involved him?

"Eurgh, now I'm sounding like Trelawny," Harry thought.

In reply to Ron's question, he merely shrugged.

The former looked at him strangely before continuing.

'It's not that I'm ashamed or anything, it's just that I've always wondered what it would be like _not_ to be a Weasley, you know. Just to be Ron—not Charlie's brother, or Bill's brother. I just want people to realize that I'm my own person, too. I love my family and all, but what would my life be like if I _wasn't_ always . . . overshadowed.'

Though he hadn't really experienced it, Harry understood completely; had he not been overshadowed by his piggish cousin, Dudley, for over half his life? After learning of what Ron saw in the Mirror of Erised and listening to Dumbledore's say in it, it wasn't surprising to hear Ron mention his feelings aloud. Ronald Weasley—the youngest Weasley brother. It was only natural for him to feel this way.

Not really knowing what to say to this confession, Harry remained silent and the two stood in a rather uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Then Harry finally spoke up.

'Is the hair thing permanent?'

'Yeah,' Ron replied sheepishly. 'Well, at least until it grows out, anyway.'

'It's not that bad. You just have to fix it up a little.' Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron.

'What are you going to do?' Ron asked, nervously staring at the wand.

'You'll see.' After a few waves of his wand and some choice mutterings escaping from Harry's lips, the teen withdrew and surveyed his friend's new look. 'Nice . . .'

'Wha-?' Ron returned his gaze to the mirror, shocked upon what he saw.

His blond hair had been attractively tousled in that "just rolled out of bed" type of appeal. His eyebrows, he was rather pleased to notice, were now dyed a shade darker than his hair, rather than the light reddish hue they had been moments before. That was the extent of change, but he thought it was marvelous.

'It isn't much,' Harry said, noticing the look on Ron's face, 'but it'll have to do until we can find someone who can do a better job of it. This isn't exactly my field of expertise.'

'No, yours lies with fighting off evil forces,' his friend teased.

Harry smiled, but it quickly vanished.

'Oh no! We still have to meet Fred and George!'

The two hastily grabbed their jackets and sprinted down the corridor.

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When they arrived at the twins' shop, it was to find themselves in an environment more akin to that of a zoo than a store. True to their style, Fred and George had "enhanced" the atmosphere with sparkling fireworks and coloured smoke soaring overhead. The creaky shelves were loaded with various objects as well, everything from Nosebleed Nougats to Canary Creams. Youths (mainly students from Hogwarts, Harry noted) slowly made their way from one end of the shop to the other, intently inspecting the items on sale.

Having realized that the twins had more or less forgotten about their lunch date, Harry felt considerably less guilty. He and Ron leisurely made their way to the counter, where the elder Weasleys were gleefully exchanging coins with their rowdy customers.

'Ron! Harry!' George cried out when he saw them, alerting his twin to their presence as well.

'Get over here!' Fred called. 'No! Not there! Here—behind the counter! We need your help!'

'What's up?' Ron asked.

'Whoa, what did you do to your hair?'

'Never you mind,' Ron snapped, the blood rushing to his face.

'Whatever. I'll bug you later. For now, I want you, little brother, to give these away,' Fred said, thrusting a tray full of coloured snacks into Ron's chest. 'They're free samples of a new product we created.'

'Wicked,' the latter said, picking up one of the wafer-like pieces. 'What are they?'

'We call them "Fluff Bluffs",' George said proudly.

'Why?' Ron asked, popping one into his mouth. Not a moment later, his blond hair turned a lurid shade of blue. 'Wicked,' he said again in amazement. Grinning, he carefully balanced the tray on his arm and he made his way around the store.

'He wanted to impress Hermione,' Harry murmured to Fred.

'Ah. About time!'

'Yeah. My thoughts exactly.'

'Our ickle Ronniekins is growing up!' George said, wiping away a fake tear.

'Yeah,' Fred agreed wistfully. 'It was only yesterday that we were slipping porcupine quills into his diapers and itching powder into his bedsheets.'

Harry rolled his eyes.

'So . . . what did you want me to help you out with?'

'Oh yeah, that,' George said. 'Can you just go into the back and bring out more sales items? They're wiping us out.'

'Unless of course you'd like to take care of the cash counter,' Fred said slyly.

One look around at the clamorous throng and Harry announced, 'I'll go to the back!'

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A few hours later, the rush finally died down and the four wizards were able to talk to each other without constant interruptions.

'So, Ron, when did you decide to make yourself the next Paris Hilton?' Fred joked.

'Very funny,' Ron said sarcastically. 'I don't know when I "decided" to dye my hair, but I drank the potion this morning, if that's what you meant.'

'And _why_, may I ask, did you want to differentiate yourselves from the rest of us Weasleys?' George asked seriously.

'I'm not ashamed of our family, if that's what you're thinking,' Ron said with a quick glance at Harry. 'I'm not Percy, George. I'm not going to turn my back on our family like he did.' He shrugged. 'It's just a different hair colour. That doesn't change who I am. I just wanted to see what it would be like, you know.' He glanced up at his hair, which was still the same blue shade that it was when he ate the "Fluff Bluff". 'When is this colour going to fade, anyhow? It's been hours!'

'Doesn't fade for a couple of hours,' Fred replied. 'Sorry, mate.'

'They were a big hit, though,' Harry said. 'Did you see those crowds? I swear, it was like there was a circus in here, what with all the clown-like people wandering around.'

The others laughed.

Just then, a timid-looking young girl stepped up to the counter and placed a box of Canary Creams on the counter.

'What a lovely choice! That'll be three Galleons,' George said, happily typing the sale into his cash register.

'You don't plan on eating those all by yourself, do you?' Fred teased as he slipped the box into a paper bag.

'No, these are for my family's Sunday dinner,' she replied with a mischievous smile, before heading off with her new purchase swinging in her hand.

'For someone so sweet-looking . . .' Ron trailed off, though the others understood what he was trying to say.

'Yeah, we get a lot of those,' George said with a shrug. 'The innocent ones are more difficult to catch, mate. No one would ever suspect them.'

'Yeah.'

There was suddenly a small rumbling noise, and everyone stared at Ron's stomach.

'So, will you guys be wanting to go for a late lunch anytime soon?' he asked. 'Or should we just call it supper?'

'You guys can go on ahead,' Fred said. 'I'll stay here and mind the store.'

'Okay,' George responded. 'We'll bring something back for you.'

'That'll be great! But I _will_ know if you slip anything into it, George!'

'What?' George inquired, feigning disbelief. 'I would _never_ do that to you!'

'Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Have fun, kids. And behave!'

'Yes, mother!'

'Shut up!

'You started it.'

'Nuh-uh!'

Harry found it odd that even after a few years away from Hogwarts, these two still acted like they were first years.

When the twins were finally through arguing, Harry, George, and Ron were off. They were just outside the door when a small firework danced past their heads and burst into flame; its remains fell to the ground in cluttered heaps.

'What the bloody hell!' Ron exclaimed, grasping at his chest.

Harry was in an equal state of shock and had instinctively backed into the wall upon the firework's sudden detonation, away from the ball of smoke.

Grinning, George whirled around at his twin, who had an identical grin on his face. Not a moment later, Harry noticed their grins widen when the pieces of the seemingly finished firework suddenly took off again, creating the same effect.

'Er . . . How many times is this going to happen?' Harry asked George, rolling his eyes when he saw the pieces take off for the third time, their explosions getting smaller and smaller.

George shrugged.

'Two, maybe three.'

'Oh. But won't this be described as a "public disturbance" or something?'

The redhead shrugged again.

'Maybe, but people in this neighbourhood are getting so used to things like this happening that they stopped reporting them months ago . . . er, or they move away.'

'I see . . . And the people who _don't_ live in this area?'

'Oops, our bad,' George said, though he didn't really seem to bothered.

'Relax, Harry,' Ron said. 'I'm sure that they're harmless.'

'Most definitely,' George agreed. 'We would never sell anything that wasn't already tested by us first. You can run your hand through the "flames" and not feel a thing. They're just quite a sight to see. Especially when—'

'What the—? NO! Fluffy! Come back!' someone screamed from nearby, interrupting George.

His gaze following the sound of the voice, Harry saw what looked like a large lizard jump out of a witch's arms and take off into the distance in fright.

'Fluffy! Come back!' the woman screamed again.

Feeling guilty on the twins' behalf (since it _was _their fireworks that had frightened the poor creature), Harry ran after the reptile, closely followed by George and Ron.

'She seemed a mite upset, I'd say,' George said.

Harry didn't reply, keeping his attention focused on the lizard. It turned suddenly into one of the side alleyways, and Harry sprinted in after it. He was almost there . . .

If he had turned around, he would have noticed that the Weasley twins had hesitated for a moment before following him.

Above them, the creaky wooden sign of Knockturn Alley swayed in the breeze . . .


	2. Chapter II

_Author's Note: Sorry that it took so long to update. Chapter one has been reposted, but I think the only real change is that Ron's blue hair returns to what it was before after a couple of hours, not twenty-four, kk?_

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**( Chapter II )**

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'Please, don't hurt me,' Draco pleaded. 'I have nothing to give you.'

'On the contrary, there is much that you can give us,' one of the males said, licking his lips.

The teen shivered with fear, unconsciously inching away from them.

'Now, now,' he warned, 'even if you do that, you have nowhere else to go.'

'And no one to save you,' the slime-toothed witch said. 'You're ours.' She muttered an incantation under her breath and black ropes appeared, immediately wrapping themselves around the Slytherin's wrists and legs.

'Let me go!' Draco screamed.

'Best gag him, too,' one of her companions suggested, and she immediately complied.

'Mmph!' Draco murmured from behind his newly-erected gag, which was a white kerchief that had also been conjured from the air.

'Come now, deary, you really have no reason to be afraid,' a hoarse voice said.

'Yeah, we aren't going to hurt you . . . much.'

'_Mobilicorpus_,' someone muttered, and the youth immediately found himself suspended in the air; he glared reproachfully at them.

Oh, _why_ didn't he just listen!

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'Fluffy!' Harry called, though he hardly expected the reptile to stop, much less reply. 'Fluffy!'

That witch seemed really upset at the loss of her pet, if that's what it really was. For all Harry knew, it could have been her ex-husband or something . . . but then, she wouldn't really be upset, would she? Oh well. Best not to think on it too much, especially since it was always hard to tell with these things in the wizarding world.

'Fluffy!'

The teen quickened his pace, breathing hard. For such a small animal, that thing moved _fast_. Suddenly, Harry felt all the breath knocked out of him—he had bumped into something! Groaning with pain, he lifted his head. He was _beyond _shocked to see Draco Malfoy's struggling form hovering in the air above him. He seemed to be restrained, for he was moving about quite a bit, and yet his arms and legs appeared constricted. Upon closer inspection, Harry saw thin, black ropes holding his arms and legs together.

'Er . . . Are you okay, Malfoy?' the latter asked in spite of himself.

'Of _course_ I'm not okay, Potter!' Malfoy spat. 'How the bloody hell would _you_ feel if you were hanging in the air against your will when a stupid git suddenly rammed right into you.'

'Sorry!' Harry said sarcastically. 'I'll watch out for the next hovering body.' His gaze shifted over to the witches and wizards clustered behind him. 'New friends of yours?'

'Oh, shut up and help me!'

'Now, that's not very nice,' Harry scolded.

'That's the same thing we thought,' one of the witches told Harry. 'We were just on our way to teach this boy here a lesson . . . and maybe get a little something out of it for us as well.'

'How . . . courteous of you,' Harry murmured. His mind was facing a dilemma. If he left Malfoy with these freaks, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he would be in _big_ trouble. And yet Malfoy was his worst enemy, so should he—Harry—really _care _about what happened to him.

"Sure, he's an annoying git and all, but it just wouldn't be right to leave him like this," he thought. "These people don't exactly personify 'kindness'. He could really get hurt if I leave him with them."

"Then again," a little voice in his head argued, "he would never do this for me."

"But I'm not like him."

Case closed.

'Ahem,' coughed one of the wizards. 'If you'll excuse me, _sir_, we must be going now.' He and his companions (with Malfoy floating oddly in front of them) easily sidestepped Harry and continued on their way.

'POTTER!' Malfoy cried out, a string of curses following shortly after.

'I know that I'm going to regret this,' Harry muttered under his breath. '_Stupefy!_' The Stunning spell managed to knock out the nearest wizard, and he fell unceremoniously to the ground. The others turned around to glare at the teen.

'GET HIM!' someone cried out.

Harry dodged behind a trash bin as the first hex was sent his way.

'_Stupefy_!' he said again, pointing his wand blindly around the metal can. '_Impedimenta_! _Stupefy_!' All the while, he could hear the others easily recovering their companions. Every time he managed to hit one with a Stunning spell, someone else would cry out, '_Enervate_', bringing them back to consciousness.

"This is no good," he realized. "I need more help. I can only hit them one at a time with the Stunning spell. I don't really want to hurt them, but the only other spells I know that would get rid of all of them would most definitely harm them. I need more help.'

'_Stupefy_!' he heard two voices call out from behind me.

Automatically knowing who was backing him up, Harry flung more spells at his adversaries with blinding speed. In mere moments, they were all knocked unconscious.

'Blimey, I'm glad that's over with,' George said, rushing to the teen's side. 'Are you all right?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Harry replied.

Ron grinned at him, making his way over to the other two.

'What happened?' he asked.

'I was chasing after Fluffy when I chanced upon—'

'—trouble,' Ron finished for him. 'You seem to have a bizarre knack for it.'

Harry shrugged.

'I don't do it on purpose,' he said.

'Who was it you were saving, anyway?' George questioned. Without waiting for an answer, he casually approached the unconscious forms of the other witches and wizards. Amongst them, there was a single teen with fair hair, who was no longer floating around like a stray bubble. 'Well, it looks like one of our stunners hit him. Hey, Ron, it looks like your long-lost brother.'

'Shut up,' Ron muttered.

George ignored him.

'Now, let's just see what he looks like? Is he as ugly as Mr. Platinum over here?' He turned the blond over. Not a moment later, various obscenities flew from his mouth.

'What? Who is it?' Ron demanded.

'It's . . . Draco Malfoy!'

'WHAT!' The younger teen reeled on his friend. 'Did you know who it was before you saved him?'

'Uh . . . Yeah,' Harry responded hesitantly.

'Why the bloody hell would you do something like that? We hate him, remember?'

'I know, it's just . . . I felt sorry for him. He was in a lot of trouble, Ron.'

And the trouble wasn't over yet.

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Draco felt as if a ton of lead had fallen upon him, but he had enough intelligence to know otherwise—he had been stunned.

"I feel like shit," he thought glumly.

'He won't feel a thing, right?' he suddenly heard a voice ask; he still refused to open his eyes, however, as if in a last attempt to revolt.

'Definitely not,' was the reply. 'That stunner should last long enough that he will not feel even the slightest sting during penetration.'

"What the fuck?" Draco thought fearfully. "Are these freaks trying to molest me?"

He had no idea what was going on, just that he could hear one of the speakers move towards him. A moment later, a sharp pain pierced through his bicep, emitting a sort of muffled yelp from him. Soon after, a chilled sensation ran down the length of his arm, making him shiver slightly.

'I thought you said that he couldn't feel it,' someone said accusingly.

'Well . . . I didn't think he'd be able to,' another replied sheepishly.

'I still don't understand why we had to bring him here,' yet another complained.

'Well, we couldn't very well leave him there,' the first voice said.

'Why not? After all the horrible things he's done to us . . .' He left the thought unfinished.

'So? Did you want to sink down to his level? Become as ruthless as he is?'

'Then why couldn't we drag him to Diagon Alley and leave him on a curb or something? Someone is bound to find him and bring him to St. Mungo's, although I doubt he would have needed it. Just a quick "_Enervate_" and he would have been okay.'

'Er . . . Harry, why don't you answer that?'

"Harry?" Draco wondered. "As in Harry _Potter_?" Well, he didn't know any other Harry, but that name wasn't _all _that unpopular, was it? Then again, through the haze of his mind, he vaguely recalled seeing Potter in Knockturn Alley, so it might have been him after all. "This is getting me nowhere," he realized, forcing his eyes open.

'Oh, he's awake. That's probably why the needle hurt.'

"Needle?" Draco wondered. "Aren't needles those pointy things that muggles use?"

Slowly, everything came into focus and he was able to make out a mop of dark hair . . . then glasses . . . then unforgettable green eyes.

'How are you feeling?' Potter asked anxiously.

'Like I've had an anvil dropped on me,' Draco replied bitterly, trying to sit up. 'What the hell was that stuff you put in my arm?'

'A potion,' someone said.

Draco turned to see one of the Weasley twins putting away the supposed needle.

"So _that's _what those things look like. Rather foreboding, I'd say." (The needle, not the Weasley, hehe.)

'What is it for?' the teen, true to his Malfoy upbringing, demanded.

'It's a healing potion,' Weasley explained. 'We needed to put it into your bloodstream for it to work.'

'Healing?'

'Yeah,' Weasley replied, zipping up his needles case. 'We have no idea what the hell they did to you, so this is just a safeguard.'

'Right. Well, I didn't need that damn stick shoved up my arm,' Draco said. 'They didn't do anything except . . . capture me.'

"Man, this is so humiliating."

'They planned on doing other things,' Harry reminded him, 'so what if they put a spell or something on you that you didn't know about? You know, before they were stunned. Like George said, this is just a safeguard.'

'Yeah, and the least you could do is thank us for our help,' another voice said.

'I don't need your hel—' Draco began to reply as he turned to see the youngest Weasley sulking in the corner. His hair was such a light hue that it almost overtook the former's own blond shade.

Draco burst out laughing.

'What . . . did you . . . do . . . to . . . your hair . . . Weasley?' he managed to choke out.

'Shove off, Malfoy,' he retorted.

'What? . . . Did you . . . think . . . that you . . . could . . . look . . . as good . . . as me?'

'I said, "SHOVE OFF"!' And Weasley left the room, disappearing through one of the side doors.

'That wasn't very nice, Malfoy,' Potter scolded him.

'Oh, come on, Potter, don't tell me that _you _didn't laugh, too.'

The brunet flushed.

'Er . . .'

'Ha! So don't go telling me not to laugh at him.'

'I didn't. I just said that it wasn't very nice.'

'_I _am not "nice". I am a Malfoy.'

'And a stupid git,' the Weasley twin muttered before following his younger brother's example and leaving out of the room, bringing his needles case along with him.

Draco reached for his wand to hex the elder wizard, but Potter jumped in the way and remained there until the door closed behind his friend.

'Then I will just have to hex _you_ now, won't I, Potter?' Draco murmured threateningly.

'Go ahead and try,' Potter challenged, pulling out his own wand.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other. Then . . .

'_Rictusempra_!' Malfoy yelled.

'_Protego_,' Potter said almost lazily.

The Tickling Charm bounced off of the erected shield and disappeared.

'_Expelliarmus_!'

_'Protego.'_

_'Incarcerous_.'

'_Protego.'_ Potter grinned. 'Is that the best that you can do?'

For the first time, Draco took a hasty look around the room, trying to see if he could use any of the items there to his advantage. Judging from all the labeled boxes surrounding them, it did not take a genius to realize that they were in the back of the Weasley's shop.

_'Accio_,' he said, summoning a box of trick quills . . . which he promptly threw at Potter.

_'Protego.' _Potter yawned, causing the box to fall to ground and scatter its contents. 'By the way, you _do _realize, Malfoy, that if you do anything that's actually harmful to me, you'd still have to bypass the Weasleys.'

"Shit. He's right," Draco realized.

Bad idea.

His hesitation was all the time that Potter needed to mutter, '_Petrificus totalus_.'

His legs were immediately forced together and his arms snapped to his sides, leaving him totally vulnerable . . . and unbalanced. Draco toppled to the ground face-first, and it was all he could do not to explode with anger.

'Now that you're listening,' Potter said in an irritably calm voice as he turned the blond over, 'I want to remind you that _we _saved you from those creeps, so don't go insulting me or my friends. You got that?' He allowed his wand to hover above Draco's head for a moment before finally releasing him from the hex.

'Like I said before, Potter,' Draco said, dusting his robes off, 'I am not "nice", so what makes you think I would agree with that?'

'Oh, I don't know . . . But a little rumour may just start one day . . . You know, about how helpless and "un-Malfoy" you were today.'

Draco paled.

'And I know that Ron would definitely enjoy spreading that around,' Potter added darkly.

'You wouldn't!' Draco said desperately.

'Try me,' Potter replied.

"Shit, if word of this reaches Father, then I'd be dead for sure!"

'Look,' the brunet urged, 'I'm not saying that you have to be our friend. God knows that's the last thing that I want. Just act more . . . _civilized _towards us, okay?'

'Fine,' Draco replied grudgingly. 'But I can't say that I won't ignore you.'

'Fine,' Potter said in turn. Then he finally stepped out of the way of the door. 'Then you're free.'

The blond looked at the door disbelievingly. He knew that if their positions had been reversed, he would have whittled more demands out of Potter before finally releasing him. Actually, he would never have saved the other in the first place, now that he thought about it.

"I guess that's what makes me different from Saint Potter."

Holding his head up with as much pride as he could muster in these humiliating circumstances, Draco made his way to the door.

'By the way,' Potter called after his departing back, 'Ron's blond shade is nothing. A couple of hours ago, it was blue—compliments of the twins.'

Trying not to laugh, Draco left the room, entering the main shop beyond.

'You didn't kill Harry, did you, Malfoy?' one of the Weasley twins asked him seriously.

'No,' Draco replied, making his way to the exit . . . where the youngest Weasley was handing out samples of something.

"There are too many of these Weasleys," the blond thought, trying to sidestep the other teen without touching him.

'Malfoy,' the latter said in acknowledgement.

'Weasley,' Draco replied, obscurely pulling out his wand.

'Ron! Look out!' one his elder brothers exclaimed . . . but it was too late.

After a cleverly murmured spell, Draco waved his wand around.

Weasley gasped in shock. Judging by the shivers that suddenly wracked his body, he was overcome by a sudden chill. Not a moment later, his blond hair darkened to a brown hue.

'How did you _do_ that, Malfoy?' Weasley asked in awe, groping at his newly-transformed hair.

'I've had a lot of practice on the house elves,' he responded nonchalantly.

Then he left.

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'Wow, Ron!' Harry exclaimed, having just left the back room after cleaning up the quills. 'What happened to your hair _now_?'

'Uh, Malfoy fixed it,' Ron responded, fingering his darkened locks.

'The blond suited you quite well, but I think that this is better,' Harry said honestly.

'Thanks!'

'Really?' Fred said. 'I think that the blue matched him.'

'Maybe a pink shade would do well, too,' George said, rubbing his chin with thought.

'No, no, I think I'll stick with _brown _for a bit before I return to red,' Ron said.

Apparently, he knew what was going to happen next.

The twins jumped from behind the counter. One of them restrained their brother's arms while the other reached for one of the samples on Ron's tray.

'Harry!' Ron cried out. 'Har—!' Then he almost chocked when Fred suddenly stuffed the sample into his mouth; they did not relent until they were sure that he had swallowed it.

Harry laughed as he watched Ron's hair change from brown to green.

George cursed.

'Wrong one, Fred.'

'We had better try again then.'

Then the sequence repeated itself.

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A few hours later, a striped-haired Ron and purple-haired Harry emerged from the twins' shop, both of them rather exhausted with the day's events. What had started out as a simple lunch date had become a brief adventure for the two musketeers. (Both for one and one for both! It was just too bad that Hermione wasn't there as well.)

First, Ron had died his hair blond . . .

Then they went to meet the twins . . .

Then they helped out a bit at the store . . .

Then they ran after Fluffy . . .

Then they came across Malfoy . . .

Then—

Harry's eyes widened.

'Er . . . Ron,' he said.

'Yeah?'

'Did we ever find Fluffy?'

'Um . . .' Ron flushed guiltily. 'No, I guess we didn't.'

'Do you think that lady ever found him?'

'Hard to say.'

'Should we go look for him again?'

'Uh . . . But he went into Knockturn Alley. I don't know about you, but I'm not really willing to go back there, especially since nighttime is upon us . . . Besides,' he said, stretching his arms over his head, 'it was Fred and George's fault—not ours.'

"That doesn't make me feel any less guilty," Harry thought, but he decided to shrug it off. Ron was right. Going into Knockturn Alley during the day was frightening enough. Nighttime would only multiply that fear tenfold.

'Changing the topic,' Ron said, 'have you heard that there is going to be a new Chudley Cannons book? I can't wait for it to come out!' And he began to ramble on about his favourite Quidditch team.

Harry let him, offering his opinion every now and then. But he was distracted. The image of a blond-haired, grey-eyed persistently kept entering his mind.

"At least now I know what that whole 'foreshadowing' thing from his morning meant . . . Still, why can't I stop thinking about him now?"

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_Malfoy . . . yelling at him to help._

_Malfoy . . . collapsed on the sidewalk._

_Malfoy . . . murmuring incoherently as Harry carried him back to the Weasleys' shop._

_Malfoy . . . laughing._

_Malfoy . . . attempting to hex him._

_Malfoy . . . leaving._

_Malfoy . . . _

_. . . Draco . . . Draco . . ._

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'Since when have I ever referred to him as "Draco"?' Harry asked himself aloud.

'Did you say something, Harry?' Ron questioned, stopping himself in mid-rant.

'No, nothing . . . Nothing at all.'


	3. Chapter III

_Author's Note: I'm sorry that I don't update as often as I should. I have just moved into my university dorm and I am still trying to adjust to life here. It's terrific, but the workload is terrible. So . . . yeah . . . I'm updating as frequently as I am able, but think of this fic as "suspended" (as stated in the summary) for the time-being. _

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**( Chapter**** III )**

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All too soon, it was time to board the Hogwarts Express once more. And, just like every year subsequent to their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ron and Hermione scurried off to the prefects' section, leaving Harry alone in the seating area.

"Well, it's not so bad," he reasoned with himself, reclining on the seats. "Maybe I can just take a nap or something."

His idea for a nap, however, was quickly put aside when he saw a familiar blond head pass by his compartment window.

"Malfoy?"

Without a moment of hesitation, he threw open the door . . . only to be confronted with the troll-ish cronies of said teen.

'Ah, it's Potter,' Malfoy said maliciously, stepping between his "bodyguards".

'Malfoy,' Harry said, adopting a cold tone in turn.

The blond sneered and glanced at the empty seats inside.

'Aw, all alone . . . Are you lonely, Potter?' he mocked.

'I don't mind it,' the Gryffindor shrugged. 'It's better than having to babysit two pigs all day like a farmer's wife.'

On either side of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles threateningly.

'Oh? Have you just finished reading "Insults For Incompetent Fools Who Are Unable To Think Of Them On Their Own"?'

'That was quite a mouthful, Malfoy. I hope that you don't choke on all those big words . . . not.'

'Idiot, you can't choke on words!'

'Don't call me an idiot, you idiot!' Harry retorted.

'How original, _Harry_!' Malfoy said sarcastically.

Harry's eyes widened and, just as quickly as had appeared in the corridor, he returned to his compartment, slamming the door shut behind him. With a quick flick of his wand and a muttered incantation, he locked it as well.

"'Harry'," the brunet thought disbelievingly, leaning against the door. "Malfoy called me 'Harry'."

Although he did not know why, the simple action had made his heart beat rapidly in his chest.

"It's probably just anger," he told himself. "I'm just pissed off that Malfoy, of all people, called me 'Harry'. Yeah, that must be it."

Regardless of how much he tried to convince himself, however, he did not feel the usual discomfort of anger. Rather, a pleasant sensation had washed through him and settled within his chest.

"But still . . . _why _would he call me that?"

'I just don't understand!' Harry exclaimed aloud, slamming his fists into the door behind him.

'_Alohomora_,' someone murmured from the corridor.

The door shot open, causing the former to stumble out.

'What the fuck?' he cursed, getting to his feet.

'Get in, Potter,' the Slytherin said, indicating the now-open compartment.

'Since when do I take orders from you?' Harry retorted.

'Since I started giving them. Get in,' the blond said again.

Harry glanced around, wondering where the other two Slytherins were.

'They're gone,' Malfoy explained. 'Now get in.'

Finally, Harry gave in and returned to his compartment.

'What do you want?' he demanded, feeling rather uncomfortable when he saw the other teen lock the door once more.

'To talk.'

'About what?'

'About . . . the insults.'

'What?' Harry inquired, caught off-guard.

'The insults,' Malfoy repeated. 'When you asked me to act more "civilized" towards you and your friends, I assumed that it would be mutual.'

'Sorry?' the Gryffindor asked, confused.

'Outside. In the corridor,' the blond clarified. 'Let's have a recap, shall we?'

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_'Ah, it's Potter.'_

_'Malfoy.'_

_'Aw, all alone . . . Are you lonely, Potter?_'

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'There!' Harry exclaimed suddenly, interrupting Malfoy's retelling. 'That's where it started.'

'I asked a simple question.'

'You _mocked _me!'

'Did I?'

'Your tone!' Harry insisted.

'It's a force of habit, Potter,' the Slytherin muttered. 'It was not intentional, so I refuse to agree that I started it.'

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_'I don't mind it. It's better than having to babysit two pigs all day like a farmer's wife.'_

_'Oh? Have you just finished reading "Insults For Incompetent Fools Who Are Unable To Think Of Them On Their Own"?'_

_'That was quite a mouthful, Malfoy. I hope that you don't choke on all those big words . . . not.'_

_'Idiot, you can't choke on words!'_

_'Don't call me an idiot, you idiot!'_

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'See? _You _started it!' Malfoy pointed out. '_I _just finished it.'

'But then . . .'

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_'How original, _Harry_!' Malfoy said sarcastically._

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'. . . you called me "Harry",' Harry said in wonder.

'So?'

'So . . . you've never called me "Harry" before.'

'Maybe I just wanted to gauge a reaction from you,' the Slytherin said smoothly.

'Maybe not. It sounded too . . . easygoing, I guess, to have just been a test.'

'I'm a Malfoy, Potter,' the blond said. 'I'm good at everything . . . especially acting.'

'Whatever.' Harry rolled his eyes. 'So was there anything else that you wanted to talk about?'

'Just one . . . There's a comment that I wanted to make.'

'And that is?'

'Fuck you and your civility.' Malfoy reached for his wand to unlock the door, but Harry suddenly grabbed his shoulders and shoved him up against it. 'What the hell, Potter!'

'I saved your fucking life, Malfoy!' Harry darkly reminded. 'Think about all the perverted things that those freaks could have done to you, not to mention sexually befoul the only heir to the Malfoy family's fucking throne of glory. You owe me for saving your ass, so the least you could do is _not _be an asshole!'

'And if I don't abide by your rules?'

'I've already answered that,' the Gryffindor responded. 'You tell, and the truth comes out.'

'Go ahead,' Malfoy said, his grey eyes challenging.

After a moment of hesitation, Harry replied, 'Don't think I won't.'

The former looked hard at his companion. A minute later, however, the expression gave way to one much more helpless and rather frightening to behold from such a strong individual.

'Don't . . . please, don't, Harry.'

Harry almost died of a heart attack. Did _Malfoy _just say "please" and "Harry" in the same sentence? This was dead serious.

'What's going on, Malfoy?' he demanded. 'Why does this mean so much to you?'

The Slytherin hung his head.

'I can't let my father find out about this,' he finally admitted. 'If he knew that I disobeyed him, then—'

'Is _that _all it is? You're afraid of getting punished by daddy?' the other teen mocked.

Malfoy's eyes flashed in warning.

'Sorry,' Harry muttered belatedly. 'Force of habit,' he added, using the other's words.

The Slytherin sighed.

Then the Gryffindor sighed.

'Look,' the brunet said, 'I'm not going to tell . . . so long as you abide by _my _requests. In exchange for yours, mine are not much by comparison.'

'But you're asking that of a _Malfoy_! How do you expect me to react?'

'Courteously.'

Malfoy scowled.

'You're treating me like a dog.'

'If that's what it takes, then heel!' Harry finally released the other teen and stepped away. 'It's _your _decision, Malfoy. The bottom line is that I _did _save your life. Think about that.' That being said, he slid the door open.

And the Slytherin left.

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It wasn't until classes began the following day that Harry finally heard his decision.

'Potter,' Malfoy said after Potions class one day.

After briefly explaining the situation to Ron and Hermione (and the Slytherin sending away his minions), the pair hung back to talk.

'So?' Harry inquired as they walked down the corridor.

'So,' Malfoy said in reply, 'I think that you already know my answer.'

'From the lack of ingredients that flung our way today, I'd say it's a "yes, I'll obey you".' Harry grinned.

True to his character, the blond sneered.

'How about "yes, I'll give in to your stupid request"?' he suggested. 'I "obey" no one but myself, Potter.'

'Funny . . . That's not what it looks like from _my _perspective.'

'Well, I have two words for you, Potter, and one of them begins with an "f" (1).'

'Up yours, Malfoy.' Shaking his head in exasperation, Harry left the dungeons for his next class, leaving the other teen behind.

It hardly came as a surprise to him that he arrived late for Transfiguration, since his "conversation" with Draco had taken longer than he expected.

'No, "Malfoy",' he chided himself, 'not "Draco".'

'Did you say something, Potter?' McGonagall asked disapprovingly, as she was already irritated with him for his tardiness.

'No, Professor,' he replied politely, secretly thinking, "It looks like she's about to breathe fire out of her nose, just like a dragon . . . Dragon . . . Draco . . . Argh!" Without even thinking of what he was doing, Harry began to beat his head with his fists.

'Stop thinking about him,' he muttered over and over. 'Stop thinking about him.'

'Potter!'

Harry stopped.

'Will you _kindly _take your seat now?'

Having been so caught up in his thoughts, he had hardly realized that he was still standing stupidly at the front of the class.

'Sorry, Professor,' he apologized. 'I will not disrupt the class again.'

'You had better not,' she warned before carrying on with the lesson.

Feeling slightly put out, Harry took his seat beside Ron and pulled out his school supplies.

'It's good to see that Malfoy didn't hex you,' his best friend muttered.

Hermione, who was listening in from her seat across the aisle from Ron, nodded in agreement.

'As if I'd let him,' Harry said back.

'I still don't understand why you saved him though.'

'He was in trouble,' the other teen replied, knowing full-well that Ron would not understand regardless of the nobility of the reasons behind his actions.

'Still . . .' And he went into an endless rant about how useless and conniving the _entire_ Malfoy lot was.

It was during this time that Harry allowed his thoughts to wander . . . right into the Draco Domain.

"_Why _do I keep thinking about him?" he wondered, remembering the cool, grey shade of Draco Malfoy's eyes. ". . . Does he think about me, too?"

The subject in question arrived a few moments later, causing McGonagall to raise her brow in disapproval once more.

'Mr. Malfoy,' she said stiffly, 'you're late.'

He shrugged. Without even bothering to mutter an apology or even an excuse, he took a seat at the table across the aisle from Harry, ignoring his two cronies sitting in their usual seats at the back of the room.

'What's he playing at?' Ron whispered to Harry, under the pretense of glancing over at the latter's notes . . . or the blank piece of parchment that would have held notes, had he not been so distracted.

'What do you mean?' Harry inquired.

The redhead looked pointedly at the Slytherin.

Harry shrugged.

'. . . and one of the most important factors that has an effect a wizard's ability to do magic is the external influence of others,' Professor McGonagall said, having been quite unaware of their own conversation. 'Now,' she continued, 'I am going to give you an assignment.'

A resounding groan swept the class.

The professor tutted impatiently.

'Irritable, though it doubtless is, this assignment is necessary for you to realize the effect that another can have on you.'

'Like a hot round a sex?' Seamus whispered under his breath.

Beside him, Dean giggled at the . . . er . . . half-joke.

'Detention, Finnigan,' McGonagall said without looking him, 'for inappropriate language.'

The class snickered in response; Seamus bowed his head.

'Sorry, ma'am.'

She ignored him.

'Now, I am going to give you a complex transfiguration spell, one that you have never attempted before.'

Glancing to the side, Harry noticed that Hermione was practically bouncing with excitement.

'Repeat after me.' And she said the spell.

The class repeated it obediently.

'Good,' McGonagall said. 'Now, you and a partner will attempt this spell together.'

'On what, professor?' Lavender asked.

'On an insect,' she said. 'I want you to turn an insect into a larger animal, which, of course, requires a great amount of concentration in order to increase its size to the required amount.'

'And what _is_ that amount?' Parvati questioned.

A mischievous smile actually appeared on her face.

'Once you realize what this spell does to the insect, I am sure that you can decide for yourself just how large it should be.'

A murmur ran through the class and the excitement spread from Hermione to the other students.

'Before we begin, however, there is the decision of whom you shall partner up with. I want you to look at the person you're sitting beside . . .'

Harry glanced at Ron, feeling relieved that he was partnered with someone he was comfortable being around . . . especially since he was likely to embarrass himself terribly if this spell was as complicated as McGonagall claimed it to be. At least with Ron, a friend, he would not feel so discomfited.

'. . . and turn your back to them. He or she will not be your partner.'

'So much for relief,' Harry muttered to himself.

'Now, look at the person directly across the aisle from you. He or she will be your partner for this assignment.'

Whispers, of both the groan and cheer varieties, swept the room.

Of course, Professor McGonagall, being the professional she was, ignored them all as she pulled out a stack of papers from her desk. 'I am allotting the entire afternoon for you to complete this assignment. One of you is to come up and receive the details of the assignment, as well as the classroom number in which you are assigned to practice in . . . Oh, and by the way, if anyone so much as harms the other deliberately, I will personally see to it that expulsion will be the least of your worries from Hogwarts.'

There was the typical screeching of chairs as people went up to retrieve their assignments while their partners patiently waited in their seats.

It was with a tense heart that Harry watched Malfoy go up as well . . . Malfoy . . . Draco Malfoy . . .

. . . His partner . . .

This _had _to be some sort of joke.

But no. It was not.

The proof of that was the very hauty being of Draco Malfoy walking towards him with the assignment at hand.

'Come on, Potter,' Malfoy said without his usual maliciousness. 'We have to go to the South Tower.'

Harry nodded in response and followed the former to their predetermined destination.

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'Okay, we're here. What now?' the brunet said when they had finally arrived at the South Tower. It was a good twenty minute walk from the Transfiguration classroom, but neither teen had said a word between that location and their current one.

Malfoy glanced down at the sheet of parchment and began to read it, mumbling the instructions to himself in a rather fetching way.

"No! I did _not _just think that," Harry scolded himself.

'Ah, this part is interesting,' he said loud enough for the other teen to hear.

'What?'

'It says that there is some sort of spell cast on the room.'

'What kind of spell?'

'It prevents either of us from deliberately casting harmful spells on each other,' the Slytherin sneered. 'Although, she _did _just tell us that in the classroom.'

'I guess that McGonagall just wanted to take extra precautions,' Harry pointed out.

'I guess,' Malfoy agreed, although he would never admit to the fact that he had just agreed with the Boy-Who-Lived.

'So . . . what now?' the brunet asked again.

'Now we attempt the spell, I guess,' the blond shrugged.

'On an insect,' Harry muttered, more as a reminder for himself than his companion. 'Let's see . . .' He cast his gaze around the classroom, trying to locate an insect. 'That's typical,' he murmured. 'When you don't want them around, they're everywhere. Then when you want them, they're nowhere to be found.'

Malfoy coughed, although the Gryffindor could have sworn that he was covering up a laugh.

"Oh well," he decided. "Whatever."

'Hey, Potter,' Malfoy called.

'Yeah?'

'If I turned _you _into an insect, would that count?'

Harry rolled his eyes.

'What do you think?'

'I don't see why not.'

Now the brunet sighed. Not bothering to voice a reply, he extended his search to the other side of the classroom, _away _from the Slytherin.

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(1) Mini-Disclaimer: Quote from "Life or Something Like It"


	4. Chapter IV

_Author's Note: I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't been including Draco's point of view in all of this. I'm going to keep it that way for a while longer, because I'm evil like that. Hehe. However, I _will _include Hermione's perspective in this chapter, kk? Er . . . also, I noticed that I made a mistake in the last chapter. I called Ron a "redhead", which, of course, he's not . . . any longer. If you can recall, he's a blond now. Hehe. Sorry about that._

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**( Chapter**** IV )**

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'This is impossible!' Malfoy exclaimed after about ten minutes of insect-searching. 'We're never going to find one!'

'Of all the rooms to assign us to, McGonagall just _had _to choose the one with no insects in it,' Harry muttered bitterly to himself, unaware that the blond was able to hear him.

'Yes, it is almost as if . . . she planned it this way,' Malfoy said slowly.

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief.

'She wouldn't!'

'Wouldn't she?' the Slytherin challenged. 'McGonagall _did _say that this exercise was to fine-tune our minds.'

'No, she said that it was to realize how others have an influence on our magic,' the brunet corrected him.

'Same difference . . . in these circumstances, anyway,' the other teen said smoothly.

'What?' Harry exclaimed.

'Don't you see? We were partnered so as to work out the solution together! You know, "realize how others have an influence on our magic",' Malfoy said, quoting the Gryffindor.

'I guess that that makes sense,' Harry replied after a brief pause, 'in a bizarre sort of way.'

The other teen did not reply.

'So . . . how are we supposed to complete this assignment then?'

'I already told you, I'm supposed to turn you into an insect,' Malfoy said.

'Why me?'

'Because _I _don't want to become one.'

Before Harry could voice a retort, he heard the other teen mutter a spell under his breath. Then Malfoy waved his wand in a wide arc, directing said spell towards the wide-eyed Gryffindor. The latter opened his mouth to scream himself hoarse at his partner when he felt a strange, tingling sensation sweep across his body at the precise moment that the spell hit him, protecting him from its effects.

'Fuck,' Malfoy cursed. 'That spell of hers really works then, huh?'

'Apparently,' Harry replied, after gaining back his bearings. 'And what the hell was that?'

'Our solution,' Malfoy said innocently.

'And what about our truce?'

'I decided that forgoing the truce was necessary for academic advancement,' the other teen replied, still maintaining his innocent tone.

'You're impossible,' Harry murmured, shaking his head. 'Did it ever occur to you that you could transfigure an _inanimate _object into an insect instead, stupid?'

'Did you just call me stupid?'

'I believe that I did.'

Malfoy glared at him.

'Fine. Whatever. Let's do it then.'

"What? No response?" Harry wondered, but easily shrugged it off. There were more important matters at hand, like his Transfiguration grade.

Without realizing it (perhaps their minds were in sync or something), the two teens pulled out their wands and pointed them at the same desk across the room while muttering the necessary transfiguration spell. Of course, both spells backfired, rebounding off of their mates and flying around in different directions.

'What the hell!' Harry exclaimed, vaguely hearing a similar curse escape Malfoy's mouth. 'Shit!' He dove under a desk as his spell (or was it Malfoy's?) bounced off of a wall and made its way towards him. Luckily, he had reacted just in time to avoid any messy circumstances, for the spell merely disappeared into the desk that he was hiding under, as if it was absorbed.

After crawling out from his hiding place, the brunet dusted himself off and cast about his gaze in search of Draco.

"Malfoy!" he reminded himself. "_Why _do I keep thinking of him as 'Draco'?"

'Malfoy!' he called, noticing that the blond was nowhere to be seen. 'Malfoy! You can come out of hiding now! I think that the spells are all gone!'

'In a manner of speaking,' a high-pitched, squeaky voice replied.

Harry whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice.

'Malfoy? Malfoy, where the fuck are you?'

'Behind you,' said the squeaker.

Harry spun on his heel, still seeing nothing but desks, chairs, and stone walls.

'Where?'

'Here.'

'_Where_?' he asked again, more insistently.

'_Here_!' the voice exclaimed impatiently.

Uncertain, Harry took a step forwards, as if moving would clarify Malfoy's whereabouts.

'No wait! Don't—EEEYYYAAAOOOWWW!'

The Gryffindor's eyes widened and he anxiously bit his bottom lip.

'Malfoy!' he yelled, feeling slightly fearful now. 'Show yourself! This isn't funny, you jerk!'

'Neither is this!' replied the voice. 'Now would you _please _take yourself off from your fucking pedestal of glory for just _one _moment and look down.'

So Harry did.

The result was that he was torn between laughing himself into hysterics, crying with a relieved sort of happiness, and fainting in shock.

'Mal . . . foy?' he asked uncertainly, looking at the slightly crippled bumblebee under his foot. He jumped back, releasing the insect from its torture.

'UGH!' the bee grunted. 'I think that you broke both my legs . . . and all these other extra legs, too!'

'Shit.' Harry waved his wand, restoring Malfoy to his former state . . . almost. He was currently curled up in pain and his legs were bent at odd angles.

'I'm just lucky that I was able to crawl away fast enough to avoid you crushing me entirely!' he exclaimed in his now-regular voice. He gritted his teeth as another wave of pain overcame him.

'Why didn't you, you know, fly away?'

'I didn't know how, moron!'

Harry felt like kicking himself. Of course, that was the obvious reason.

'ARGH!'

Snapping out of his thoughts, the brunet analyzed the situation.

'Screw the assignment,' he said without hesitation. 'We have to get you to the hospital wing.' He looked over the twisted limbs. 'I'm not that great at healing spells, but I_ can _perform one that will bind your legs and take away the brunt of the pain for a while.'

'Whatever! Just do it, Potter!'

'Say "please".'

'No.'

'Say it.'

'AHH! ALRIGHT,_ PLEASE_, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!'

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'He should wake up in a couple of hours,' Madam Pomfrey said, having just finished tending to Malfoy after Harry had brought him in a while ago, but what felt like an eternity. 'That sleeping drought that I gave him isn't all that powerful and—'

'And his legs?' the Gryffindor asked urgently, disregarding his manners.

'Will be fine,' the nurse reassured him. 'Do not worry, Mr. Potter. Soon enough, we shall have our same old Mr. Malfoy back.'

Now that he thought about it, Harry couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

'Thank you,' he murmured quietly.

She smiled and returned to her office in the next room.

Sighing, the brunet slumped onto the chair beside Malfoy's bed . . . or tried to, anyway. He happened to miss and collapsed onto the floor.

'This is _so _not my day,' he said to the ceiling, before attempting to hoist himself up onto the chair once more. This time, he was successful. Harry drew the chair closer to the bed and folded his arms atop the mattress, resting his head on them in such a way that he would be able to watch Malfoy sleeping. 'Would you just look at the state your in?' he said in a weak attempt at a joke. 'Who knew that McGonagall's spell would backfire if we didn't _deliberately _try to harm each other.' He paused, watching the sleeping teen for a few moments. '. . . I'm sorry,' he apologized softly to the peaceful, seemingly-vulnerable being.

'Harry . . .' the Slytherin whispered in his sleep. 'Harry . . .'

The other teen's heart skipped a beat when he heard his name; his breath caught in his throat when he saw the soft lips moving to form _his _name.

And it was at that moment that Harry Potter fell in love with Draco Malfoy.

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'So, what did you think about that assignment, mate?' Ron asked Harry as they, along with Hermione, made their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

But Harry wasn't listening . . . not that his friend really noticed.

'I was so lucky to have been paired up with Hermione. She's the greatest!'

Beside him, Hermione blushed a deep shade of red. Of course, Ron did not notice.

'It took her almost no time at all to realize that there were no insects to be had and that we had to transfigure an object into one. Genius! McGonagall is a genius! Though, if truth be told, I would not be saying that if I hadn't had someone else there to figure out the solution for me,' the teen admitted with a sheepish grin.

'But I rather regret the fact that her spell was a dud,' Hermione said disappointedly. 'I was really looking forward to trying out a difficult spell and advancing my magical level.'

'Your "magical level" has no higher level to go, Hermione,' Ron said matter-of-factly.

'That's not true, Ron,' the witch said stiffly. 'There is always more for one to learn. Don't you agree, Harry?'

'Yeah,' Harry said distractedly.

Hermione, not being Ron, was quick to notice that something was the matter.

'Harry, are you all right?' she asked, already knowing the answer.

'Yeah,' the brunet lied. 'I'm just . . . thinking, I guess.'

'Care to share?' Ron inquired frankly.

'Erm . . . Not really,' Harry said. Besides, how was he to tell his friends that he had fallen for his second-worst enemy? His first-worst enemy, of course, was Lord Voldemort.

ARGH! What would happen if he ever fell in love with Voldemort! He would probably just kill himself, after carving out his eyes with a spoon and inflicting other such bodily tortures on himself for being idiotic enough to fall in love with the Dark Lord in the first place!

"Just . . . No! I must not think about that now . . . or ever! Must return to thoughts of Draco."

"Did I just think that! Who the hell is Draco! His name is _Malfoy_. M-A-L-F-O-Y! MALFOY!"

'HARRY!' Ron cried out in a sort of shocked urgency.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts a little too late, having realized that he was using his fists to beat his head in again.

'Harry! Tell us what's wrong!' Hermione exclaimed.

'N-nothing,' the other teen stuttered. 'Really, guys, I'm fine.' He easily shrugged and inclined his head towards the nearby Great Hall. 'Come on. Let's go.'

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At school the next day, Harry was eagerly awaiting potions class. No, he did not have a sudden urge to gain knowledge from the horrendous Professor Snape, but he _was _anxious to know how Draco was faring.

"His name is "_Malfoy_", damn it!" his subconscious scolded.

"Yes, his _sur_name is. But Draco is his given name. Deal with it."

"No."

"Why not? You prefer to be called 'Harry' to being called 'Potter', am I right?"

"That's not the point."

"I know. The original point was that his name is 'Draco'."

'UGH!' Harry grunted aloud.

A few students shot curious looks his way, but everyone otherwise ignored him . . . except his best friends.

"But is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he wondered, looking from one anxious face to the other.

'Okay, Harry, what's up?' Ron questioned. 'You've been acting so weird lately!'

'For the past day or so, as a matter of fact,' Hermione added.

'Yeah,' Ron agreed. 'It's pretty bizarre.'

'If you think that my actions are, then the reasons are even more so,' Harry mumbled.

'What was that?' the witch asked.

'Never mind.' Harry shrugged. 'I've just had a lot on my mind lately and I don't know how to deal with it.'

'Then what better way to start than telling your friends?' Ron urged. 'You—'

Hermione suddenly interrupted him by placing a gentle hand on his arm.

'No, leave him alone, Ron.' She smiled encouragingly at Harry. 'You don't have to tell us, Harry, but we'll be here if you ever need us, okay?'

Harry was about to voice a reply when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

'Excuse me, Potter, but you and your friends appear to be blocking the doorway.'

_Thump._

"That voice," Harry thought, feeling his heart beating loudly in his chest. "Draco . . ."

There he was. The one of his dreams, a glowing beacon in the gloom of the dungeons.

'Potter,' Malfoy said in greeting.

_Thump._

'Draco.'

'What did you say?' Ron asked incredulously.

'He said "d_raconis_",' Hermione quickly intervened, although she gave Harry a pointed look. 'You know, Ron, like in the school's slogan. Harry has taken an interest in the history of the school. Didn't you know, Ron? He even read "_Hogwarts, A History_", and—'

Harry obscurely kicked her with his toe, giving her a very obvious okay-Hermione-that's-enough-bloody-information-now kind of look.

Hermione immediately shut up.

'Blimey,' Ron muttered, shaking his head. 'You actually read it, did you? Heh! You'll never catch _me _reading that book.' Without waiting for a reply, he sauntered off into the classroom.

'Ahem,' Malfoy said suddenly.

_Thump_.

'Excuse me, Potter, but you are still in the way.'

'Sorry,' Harry mumbled, almost tripping over his feet as he shuffled out of the way.

And Malfoy left, _sans _the two trolls, who had still not arrived for class.

'No, Harry,' Hermione said as soon as she was sure that the blond was out of hearing distance. 'You can't.'

'I can't what?' Harry asked, feigning innocence.

'You know very well "what",' she said sternly. 'If truth be told, I have never really been able to accept your choice of girlfriends in the past—excluding Ginny, of course—but I have more or less always remained an observer and left you to your own devices. Now, however, I'm going to have to draw the line. You can't fall for Draco Malfoy. What is going on in that thick skull of yours?'

'Something that you can't understand,' Harry responded. 'Love is not like a coat that you can hang up in a closet and take out whenever you want to. Love is more like an electric spark; it just . . . happens!'

'Actually, electric sparks usually occur when the electrons—' Hermione stopped herself in mid-sentence when she saw the look on Harry's face. 'Oh, all right. I'll stay on topic . . . which is that you _can't _fall in love with Malfoy!'

'"Can't" or "shouldn't"?'

'Both. He is the heir to the Malfoy family, a family—may I remind you—that holds _very _close ties with the Dark Lord, the sworn enemy of the entire wizarding world!'

'But is it Draco that you're talking about or his family?'

'It makes no difference in these circumstances, and since when did you stop calling him "Malfoy"?' she snapped.

'Since I started calling him "Draco"!' Harry retorted. 'But—no, whatever, Hermione. You have no say in the matter . . .' He trailed off. 'Neither do I,' he finished in a whisper.

'But do you love him so much that it hurts to let him go?' the witch asked. 'Can you really feel the pain of loss for something that was never yours to begin with?'

'I don't know.' Harry couldn't bear to look at her. When he eventually did, however, cool tears were rolling down his cheeks.

She was right.

'I don't know whether it's logical or not, and it probably isn't, but I _do _feel pain, Hermione.'

Completely forgetting about their potions class, he turned around and fled.

What he didn't know was that more than one pair of eyes was watching him go.

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'Malfoy,' Hermione stated simply when she saw the Slytherin standing in the doorway.

'Granger,' he replied. 'What are you still doing out here? And where did Potter go?'

_'That_ is none of your business,' the witch said, not wanting to admit that she herself did not know where her best friend went. 'So why aren't _you _in class?'

'I was, but I realized that I had left something back in my dorm. I was just about to go up and get it,' he said with a graceful shrug.

'But won't Professor Snape—' She stopped herself. The Gryffindor was about to point out the kind of reaction the greasy teacher would have if a student of his had left class without permission, but that was before she really realized whom she was talking to. 'Never mind.'

Malfoy smirked.

'Well, you had better toddle off to class now, Granger,' he said. 'I don't think that Snape will be very happy if you were late . . . not that he ever is.' He shrugged again.

'Right,' Hermione said, finally entering the cold classroom. She turned back just in time to see Malfoy heading into the corridor that Harry had gone through but moments before.

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_What _had come over him?

Harry was sitting on a rock outside, trying to catch his breath.

What the _hell _had come over him? Was he so weak as to reveal his emotions for Malfoy so easily?

Granted, it was _Hermione _who had noticed. Now, that had the 50/50 chance of being either good or bad. The good thing was that _she _was the one who noticed, no one else probably did. The bad thing was that _she _was the one who noticed, meaning she would have noticed _everything _and have been able to fill in any little loopholes around it within a matter of moments.

This truly . . . deeply . . . _sucked_.

Harry buried his head in his hands, not knowing what to do.

He was still in that same position when someone came across him not long after.

'Harry . . .'

_Thump._

The brunet looked up to see piercing grey eyes watching him with interest.

_Thump._

'Draco . . .' he said automatically.

'I—' Malfoy started, but abruptly stopped himself.

After that, neither teen said a word. No one spoke, no one moved. They just . . . were.

_Thump._

Then, still maintaining the awkward silence, the Slytherin left.

Not knowing what he could do to stop him, Harry just watched him go.

_Crack._

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A couple of hours later, the Gryffindor still had not found the courage to return to class. Although, when he was found by a very familiar blond a few hours later, he had already discovered another (fairly productive) way to spend his time.

'Oy, Potter!' Malfoy called from down on the field.

After pulling up slightly on his broom's handle, causing it to stop and hover steadily in the air, Harry glanced down to see who had called him.

'Get your ass down here!' the Slytherin yelled.

'Why?' the other teen called back.

'Because I said so!'

'So what?' Harry asked, practically kicking himself after having said so. After all, any reason to talk to Malfoy was a good one, right?

'So get down here!'

Making a dramatic show of sighing and pretending to hesitate, the brunet eventually made it down to the ground and hopped off of his broomstick.

'What?' he demanded.

'Come with me. I have to show you something.'

'What?' Harry said again.

'Just come on!' Malfoy said insistently.

'I'm not going until you tell me what it is that you want to show me,' the other teen said stubbornly.

Now it was the Slytherin's turn to sigh.

'If I tell you, then will you come?' he asked, sounding rather like a ten-year-old.

'Maybe.'

'Well . . . er . . . the thing is . . . uh . . . I created a new potion.'

'WHAT!' Harry exclaimed. 'How? Why? When?' he questioned, firing off one question after another. When he finally calmed down, it was to notice the trademark smirk on Malfoy's face. 'Sorry,' he mumbled, 'it's just . . . I didn't know that you received your potion marks for actually being _good _at potions. I thought that it was just because you were the teacher's pet.'

'Yeah, well, whatever you thought before, now you know that I _am _good at potions, Potter, and I _did _create one,' the other said impatiently.

'Well . . . what does it do?' the Gryffindor asked, not entirely sure that he wanted to know.

'It turns dogs into butterflies.'

'What?'

'A joke, Potter, it was a joke.' Malfoy was smiling now, which was both strange and pleasing in the brunet's eyes. 'Really, though, its purpose is to put something—or some_one_—into a temporary state of paralysis.'

Harry uncomfortably tightened his hold on his broom.

'Can't you just use a charm for that?' he asked hesitantly.

'You could,' the blond conceded, 'but charms can easily be undone. The potion's effects, however, will remain permanent unless the victim is given the antidote within a one hour time span.'

'You really thought this out, didn't you?' Harry asked wryly.

'I suppose you could say that.'

There was a pause, then, 'Why are you telling me all this? Hoping to test it on me?' The brunet scowled. 'We're still enemies, Malfoy, despite the new "courtesy" standings between us.'

'I know that,' Malfoy said smoothly, 'but I also know that you're the only one I can entrust this secret to.'

'Why not Crabbe? Or Goyle? Or Blaise? Or even Pansy?' Harry suggested. 'And . . . why is it a secret?'

'That is a secret in itself,' Malfoy responded. 'And so is the reason as to why I chose you instead of another Slytherin.'

'I don't like these riddles of yours,' Harry said warningly.

'I know, but I cannot tell you the truth.'

'Why, then, should I go with you?'

'. . . I don't know,' the blond admitted. Then he held out his hand. 'But you're just going to have to trust me.'

Harry looked from the hand, to the Slytherin's face, then back again.

'Please?' Malfoy pleaded.

The Gryffindor glanced at the hand again . . .

. . . and took it.

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	5. Chapter V

**( Chapter V ) **

"_I came . . ._"

Harry came with him . . . Or perhaps the proper grammatical way to say it would be "Harry _went _with him". Regardless of its grammatical structure, however, the point of the matter was that Harry actually went with Draco Malfoy to a place unknown, when no one would know where he was, to learn more about a new, possibly dangerous potion.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

He followed Malfoy down a set of stairs and past the cold dungeons of the potions room. Then they continued ever downwards until Harry's breath was rising in a fog in front of his face.

'Where are we going?' he asked.

The blond, who was apparently unfazed by the gradual cold, did not reply.

Eventually, however, Harry's questions were (almost) answered when they encountered a stone wall.

'Great, Malfoy. You led us to a dead end.'

The Slytherin rolled his eyes.

'Has six years at Hogwarts taught you nothing?' he asked.

'Huh?'

Malfoy sighed and muttered, 'Paramecium.'

The wall slid open.

'I would have thought that was obvious,' he said smugly. 'I'm surprised that you didn't know.'

'I'm surprised that you used a muggle word as your password.'

The blond's usually pale face became flushed.

'It isn't a muggle word—it is a science word,' he said defensively.

'And science is something from the muggles.'

'Well . . . Whatever,' Malfoy snapped. 'I-I wasn't the one who created the password.'

Although Harry knew otherwise, he did not comment on it, not wanting to start another row . . . or almost-row. Sighing and shaking his head, he followed the blond into the chambers within.

They were nothing amazing really, the rooms, that is. They were simple dungeon rooms with no décor on the walls and minimal furniture—a single table and chair in the centre of the room. On the worn table sat two vials of potion, one sapphire blue and the other a deep, blood red.

'These are the potions, I presume,' Harry said, already knowing the answer.

Malfoy nodded.

'And . . . you want to test them on me?'

The Slytherin nodded again.

'How do you I know that the antidote will work? How do _I _know that the antidote will work?' Harry asked, unable to keep the anxiety from his voice.

'Just trust me, Potter. It will work.'

'And if it doesn't?'

'Then we'll haul you along to Dumbledore and he'll form one of his magical solutions.'

'But you'll get into trouble,' the brunet reminded him.

Malfoy shrugged.

'Whatever. My father can get me out of it.'

Harry rolled his eyes.

'Wait a minute,' he said, suddenly realizing something. 'How do I know that you're not just going to leave me here?'

Now it was Malfoy's turn to roll his eyes.

'What do you want from me, Potter? What can I do to convince you to do this?'

'A good reason to!' Harry retorted. 'And . . . leverage.'

'Leverage?'

Harry looked him up and down.

'Your clothes . . . and your wand.'

'WHAT!' Malfoy's eyes widened in shock.

'You heard me,' the Gryffindor said calmly.

'What are you going to do with them?'

'Cast a handy little spell on them to make them disappear to a place only I know about. No matter how sexy your body is, even you don't have the nerve to walk around the castle in the nude.'

Malfoy flushed scarlet.

'Did you just call me sexy?'

Harry avoided his gaze, his own face blushing.

'Just take your clothes off, Malfoy.'

'And what if I take your clothes and wand while you're paralyzed?'

'Would you?'

'Wouldn't I?'

Harry sighed.

'Then I'll cast a spell on myself to prevent that. Do we have an agreement?'

Malfoy hesitated, first glancing down at his robes, then up at the brunet.

'Remember, Malfoy, this is for you,' Harry reminded him. 'Unless we do these things, then I am _not _going to try that little potion of yours.'

The blond's jaw hardened.

'Fine,' he snapped, reaching up to unbutton his robes.

"Oh my," Harry thought, the blood rushing to his face as he watched Malfoy undress, revealing his creamy body inch by inch. Feeling the need to be chivalrous (and because of his unfortunately growing erection), the brunet turned away. He made his way to the chair and sat down, facing the wall.

'What? Too much for your innocent eyes to handle, Potter?' Malfoy taunted.

'Oh? Is that an invitation to continue watching?' Harry responded.

'NO!'

The Gryffindor smirked, as if imitating the other teen.

'So shut your mouth.' Then, as if just remembering (or as if he just wanted something to do while Draco Malfoy undressed behind him), Harry pulled out his wand and cast the spell on himself, which would stop anyone from trying to remove his wand and/or clothes by force.

"There," he thought satisfactorily.

After a while, he heard Malfoy mutter, 'Okay, Potter, I'm done.'

Harry hesitantly turned around and quickly cast the vanishing spell on the pile of Malfoy's clothes and wand. Then he firmly fixed his gaze on the wall . . . the floor . . . anywhere in the room that wasn't Malfoy's tantalizing body. Eventually his eyes settled on the two potions innocently awaiting him.

'So . . . you're sure that this is going to work?' he asked.

Malfoy sighed.

'For the last time, "yes!"' he snapped.

'Why did you go through all the trouble of making them?' Harry questioned, still stubbornly refusing to look at the blond. 'Surely there is already something similar out there . . . a potion isn't even necessary for that! Muggle poisons can probably do the same thing!' he babbled.

'Perhaps the idea was not too original,' Malfoy admitted 'However, this one is undetectable, even by some of the most powerful spells.'

'And you know this . . . how?'

The Slytherin remained silent.

'Let me guess – another secret.' Harry rolled his eyes. 'Fine. Let's just get this over with.' The brunet sat down and unconsciously closed his eyes.

'My, my, you're the timid type, aren't you?' Malfoy smirked.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Harry responded, crossing his arms.

'You haven't looked at me once since you told me to take off my clothes.'

The Gryffindor flushed scarlet.

'Well, maybe not everyone _wants _to look at your nude body, you conceited git,' he retorted. He sensed movement; even with his eyes closed, he could tell that Malfoy was uncomfortably close to him.

'Or maybe you _do_ want to see me,' the blond whispered seductively, the hot air teasing Harry's ear, 'but you're just afraid of how your body will react.'

Not knowing what to say, Harry remained silent.

Malfoy smirked and moved away once more.

'Not that I particularly care, but are you ready, Potter?'

'As ready as I'll ever be.'

'And you still refuse to open your eyes.'

Silence.

'Fine,' Malfoy muttered, and thrust the first vial into Harry's hand.

'Bottom's up,' Harry murmured, before downing the contents. No sooner had the first few drops of the potion touch his tongue that he began to feel the effects; in panic, he opened his eyes.

'Potter?' Malfoy inquired nonchalantly, waving his hand in front of Harry's frightened gaze. He smirked with satisfaction when the Gryffindor could do nothing but move his eyes about, similar to the effects of the _Petrificus Totalus _spell. 'It works then, I suppose . . . Now for the real purpose of this experiment . . .'

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Late that night, Harry was sitting alone in his bedroom with his Firebolt in his hand. He was absentmindedly polishing its handle, his concentrated expression evidence that he had something else on his mind, something that was much more important that the aesthetic shine of his broomstick. It was in this state that Hermione found him.

'Harry!' she exclaimed. 'Are you all right?'

Harry ignored her and continued with his task.

'Ron told me that you've been here for hours – polishing your broomstick and muttering to yourself. He said that the only thing you told him was to "go away"!'

'That's because Ron wouldn't understand . . . but you're smart, Hermione . . . smart, smart Hermione. You would understand if I told you, right? You wouldn't judge me,' Harry muttered hoarsely, his gaze fixed on his bed.

'Harry, you're scaring me . . . What happened? Before Ron found you here, you had been missing for hours!'

'I'm confused, Hermione . . . I don't know what to do, how to feel . . .'

Hermione bit her lip worriedly, as she had never seen Harry like this before.

'Please, Harry, tell me what happened. Where were you?'

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Thump. Thump.

_Harry watched in fascination as the nude form of Draco Malfoy pranced about in front of him._

_'I have been thinking about you a lot, Potter, and I have no idea why,' the blond muttered, staring the Gryffindor in the eye. 'Ever since that day in Diagon Alley, I've been having difficulty getting you out of my mind . . . It became difficult for me to sleep . . . I had to force myself to eat . . . And all that time, my body kept getting tenser and tenser.'_

_Harry's mind began to work, wondering what the hell Malfoy was talking about . . . but the answer soon became clear to him._

_'It was not until I found myself masturbating to your image in my mind that I realized . . . I desire you.' _

_The brunet's heart began to beat rapidly. _

_'You, the one I have loathed since the day we met . . . I desire _you_, the Boy Who Lived.' Malfoy sneered. 'I was unsure of what to do about this new . . . development. As time went by, however, the answer became obvious. I had to take you as my own, make you mine; else, I would never be satisfied. So I developed a plan . . . I had decided to make a potion that I had invented months ago and lure you here with it, on the pretense that it has never been tested before. Oh, and I believe that I failed to mention . . . you can still feel everything . . . sensation.' To prove his point, Malfoy placed a slender finger on Harry's clothed chest and slid it upwards until it met the skin of the Gryffindor's neck._

0000000000

'How did you feel during all this?' Hermione asked anxiously, interrupting her friend.

'I don't know,' Harry sighed. 'Surprised . . . confused . . .'

'Happy?'

The other teen started.

'Yes . . . happy,' he admitted.

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_Then Malfoy boldly straddled Harry's lap. His hardening erection pressing against Harry's clothed one._

_Harry inwardly cursed the fact that he was wearing clothes, for he wished to feel that hardness against his own. How smooth would it be? How hard!_

_'I know that you desire me, too, Potter,' the blond whispered huskily, lightly kissing the side of the other's neck. 'I've seen how you react to me.' He planted a feathery kiss on Harry's cheek. 'I can feel how you're reacting to me now.' As if to emphasize this point, he grinded against Harry; a moan erupted from deep within the latter's throat. 'Allow me to dominate you . . . Harry.' With that said, Malfoy kissed the Gryffindor on the mouth – hard! _

_Harry could feel his lips beginning to bruise, but the silkiness of the blond's tongue sliding into his mouth that followed shortly after made it all worth it. He tried to caress the tongue with his own, but the effects of the potion did not allow him to do that._

_As if reading his mind, Malfoy's reached for the antidote and poured some of the liquid down Harry's throat._

_The latter was soon restored to full mobility, which he took advantage of by grabbing the back of the blond's head and pulling him in for a proper kiss._

000000000

'You can guess what happened after that,' Harry muttered sheepishly.

'I see,' Hermione said slowly. 'So what–?'

Just then, the dormitory door banged open and Neville burst in.

'Hermione, come quick! We need you in the Common Room!'

'Can no one else take care of it?'

'No. Apparently, Seamus and Dean were messing around and they transfigured a sack of marbles into Cornish pixies . . . so you can just imagine how many of them there are. We need _you_ there!'

'All right, Neville,' she sighed. 'I'm coming . . . Harry, I'll be right back,' she said with a comforting smile; then she ran down to the Common Room, where screams and loud thumps could be heard, even from this high up the tower.

'All right there, Harry?' Neville asked.

'Yeah,' Harry replied blankly.

'Okay.' Then he ran down to "help" with the pixies.

And Harry was alone again.

'I need a walk,' he muttered to himself. After retrieving his father's Invisibility Cloak from his trunk, he sneaked out into the night.

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About half an hour later, Harry was walking across the school grounds, enjoying the clear night. It had taken him longer than usual to get down, due to the havoc wreaked by the Cornish pixies in the Gryffindor Common Room and the precautions not to alert anyone of his presence. When he was leaving, he thought he saw Neville hanging from the chandelier. Talk about déjà-vu.

The brunet made his way to the lake and sat underneath one of the trees that bordered it. He sighed as another wave of memories washed through his mind.

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_Harry felt his heart beating loudly as Malfoy unbuttoned his school robes and gently pushed them out of the way, finding the loophole in Harry's "self-protection" spell; then his, shirt, vest, and tie were quickly undone and tossed to the floor. The blond immediately latched onto one of his nipples, which hardened almost immediately under his skilled tongue. The brunet groaned in appreciation; not knowing what else to do with his hands, he rested them on Malfoy's slim waist._

_Malfoy blond wasted no time. He hastily unbuckled Harry's belt and slid the latter's trousers and boxers to the floor._


	6. Chapter VI new

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**( Chapter VI ) **

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"Twice, Malfoy and I have fucked _twice _now," Harry thought as he lay in bed a few hours later. The teen stared blankly at the ceiling.

Malfoy still wanted him . . . but did he? Or was this all some sort of elaborate plan to hurt Harry?

"That's all he's ever wanted to do before," Harry reasoned. "Find ways to embarrass the 'great Harry Potter'. Find ways to hurt the 'great Harry Potter'. What better way to hurt me than to boast to his friends that he fucked the 'great Harry Potter', to turn my friends against me . . . The best thing would be to stop fucking and forget that any of it ever happened."

"But that's not what you really want, is it?" a voice questioned him inside his head. "Malfoy even asked if you just wanted to forget everything, and you said 'no'. He wanted to fuck you, and you wanted him to."

"But what's the point of all that if it doesn't mean anything to him? It's just heartless sex. The first time we did it, all Malfoy had to say was, 'That was a good fuck'."

'It's better that way anyway,' Harry muttered to himself, 'because once it starts to mean anything, things will just get more complicated.'

"But it'll hurt you more to let go . . ."

With that last thought in mind, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.

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It was unsurprising when, the next morning, his friends noticed that there was something wrong.

'Are you all right, Harry?' Ron asked as the three of them made their way downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. 'You look terrible.'

'I didn't sleep very well last night,' Harry admitted.

'Did you go out?' Hermione questioned.

'Yeah, for a walk,' was the reply. 'Why?'

'After the Cornish pixies . . . incident was settled, I went back up to your dorm to talk to you, but you weren't there.'

'Sorry, Hermione,' Harry apologized. 'I was really distracted and I guess I just . . . well . . . forgot that you said you'd come back to the dormitory.'

'That's all right. We can talk later then, if you still want to.' Hermione looked him knowingly, but did not say anything more since Ron was there.

'"Come _back_ to the dormitory"? Ron inquired. 'You were there before?'

'Yeah, Harry and I were just talking about the potions assignment,' Hermione lied easily.

'Ugh,' was all Ron said.

"That did it," Harry thought with a slight smile. "Hermione knows exactly what to say to get rid of Ron's questions."

'What are you smiling about?' the Ron suddenly asked.

'Nothing,' Harry said, still smiling.

The three Gryffindors walked into the Great Hall and were greeted with the familiar sight of witches and wizards at breakfast – sleepy students sluggishly serving food onto their plates, rowdy students chasing each other around the Great Hall, professors telling them off for doing so . . . and . . .

_Thump._

Harry saw a familiar Slytherin sitting with his friends at one end of the long house table for Slytherin. Malfoy was eating with his head down and not speaking to anyone, which was very uncharacteristic of him; the brunet wondered why . . .

'Harry, let's go,' Hermione called to him.

Harry snapped back to reality, not realizing that he had stopped walking and was falling behind (since the others had continued on their way to the Gryffindor table).

'Coming,' he responded, following them after one last look at Malfoy . . . and he was almost certain that he saw the blond looking at him too.

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After breakfast, the Gryffindors made their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which they had with the Slytherins. They had a rather unwelcome surprise upon entering the room. There, in the front of the classroom, was a full-length mirror. The frame's garnish was faded and blackened and, in some areas, the metal appeared cracked or melted. The mirror looked as if it had been hastily wiped off with a damp cloth, but at the bottom of it, there were splatters of scarlet that looked like . . . blood!

'Come in, come in,' the teacher, Professor Lucksworth, was telling them hurriedly. 'I would like to get started . . . Quickly now.'

Lucksworth was about the height of Professor Flitwick (which caused a lot of random rumors amongst students that he was a leprechaun – the fact that he had a fondness for green robes just further encouraged the rumors). As such, he was standing on his chair to be easily seen by the students as they hesitantly filed into the classroom.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose to sit at the back of the classroom. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones, so there was a slight scuffling as most of the students try to get seats near the back of the classroom and as far way from the mirror as possible.

'Come now,' Lucksworth said. 'Do not be afraid . . . er . . . but do not stand or sit in front of the mirror just yet. I have to explain its properties to you or else you may just faint with fright.'

Neville squeaked.

'The Dark Arts,' the professor began, once everyone had settled, 'are very complicated. They are not limited to potions, enchantments, and creatures. No. They also include objects – such as this one.' He pointed at the mirror.

'Harry, doesn't that sort of look like that other mirror we found in first year?' Ron whispered. 'But, you know, like a darker, more sinister version of it?'

'The Mirror of Erised,' Harry reminded him. 'It shows your greatest desire.'

'So what do you think this one shows?'

At the front of the class, the leprechaun . . . I mean . . . the teacher was continuing on with the lesson.

'The origin of this mirror is unknown. However, it was discovered by many wise, gifted wizards that this mirror has many magical properties, none of them to be considered lightly.' Lucksworth disappeared from sight as he climbed down from the chair. He reappeared momentarily beside his desk and asked, 'How many of you have heard about the Mirror of Erised?'

Only about a handful of students raised their hands, Harry, Ron, and Hermione included.

'Ah, well, for those of you who don't know, the Mirror of Erised shows viewers nothing more or less than the greatest desire of their hearts. This mirror is like its counterpart of sorts.'

Seamus raised his hand.

'Yes, Mr. Finnigan?'

'Is it possible for two people to see the same thing?' Seamus asked.

'It is very rare,' Lucksworth replied, 'but not unheard of.'

'How about if two people stand in front of it at the same time?'

'Then the mirror acts as any other mirror would,' said the professor. 'The two individuals would only see their reflections – nothing more. Now, this mirror here acts in a similar manner to the Mirror of Erised, in that it shows viewers things that are hidden deep inside their hearts. It is unwise and sometimes dangerous for many to learn of such things. Many witches and wizards have wasted away trying to interpret the meaning of what they see; some even commit suicide over it.'

Following his words, there was nothing but dead silence.

'Today, you will look into this mirror and—'

'But, sir!' Dean interrupted. 'Didn't you just say it's dangerous to look into it?!'

'I don't want to die!' Pansy squealed.

The silence that had come over the class suddenly broke as the students argued with Lucksworth.

'What do you reckon?' Ron asked his friends.

'It . . . could be useful,' Harry said slowly.

'But Professor Lucksworth didn't even tell us what this mirror will show!' Hermione said.

'I expect he will though. It seems unreasonable to warn us about the mirror then suddenly say we're going to look into it without knowing what it does,' Harry reasoned.

'Please, please, everyone, calm down!' Lucksworth said loudly.

The class slowly calmed down and the few students who had stood up retook their seats.

'I have discussed this with Dumbledore and he has agreed that it would be good training. You must understand that what you see in the mirror is not necessarily the future. As long as you do not overanalyze it, you will be perfectly fine. Indeed, you may become stronger because of it.'

Hermione raised her hand.

'Yes, Miss Granger?'

'What does the mirror show us, professor?'

'Ah, I was just getting to that. This mirror, the Mirror of Niap, will show you . . . what will hurt you the most.'

A few people snickered and Harry heard someone say, 'Is that _it_? He made it seem so much worst.' Other students, however, appeared even more nervous now that they knew what the mirror showed.

'There is something else you should know,' the professor continued. 'This mirror is not limited to the second dimension. What you see may or may not just be an image in the mirror. What you see may actually come out of the mirror.'

Neville watched Lucksworth with widening eyes; he was not the only one.

'Be assured, however, that it cannot take physical form; it is merely a holograph of what will hurt you the most and cannot do any physical harm to you. Are there any other questions?'

No one raised their hand.

'Good. Now can you please all stand and form a line along the side of the room.' He indicated the side of the classroom near the windows.

The students hurried to oblige, whispering nervously to each other.

'If you see something that is more than you can handle, simply step away from the mirror and the vision will disappear. Or if I notice that you appear too uncomfortable what you see, then I will cease the vision for you. After you have taken your turn to look into the mirror, then you may leave and you do not have to tell anyone what you saw.'

There was a sigh of relief amongst the students.

'However,' Lucksworth continued, 'you will have to write a two-foot-long essay by next Monday expressing how you _felt_ after looking into the mirror – scared, happy, sad . . . or even if you felt nothing at all.'

There was a united groan amongst the students.

Lucksworth chose to ignore it.

'Now, are you ready, Miss Brown?' he asked, as she was the one standing at the front of the line.

Lavender slowly nodded.

'Okay, then you may step in front of the mirror.'

Harry watched as the expression on Lavender's face appeared shocked at first. Then her expression dropped as the vision continued; tears were forming in her eyes and she didn't even bother to wipe them away. About five minutes later, she stepped away from the mirror and, without looking at any of her classmates, hastily retrieved her belongings and fled from the room.

'Right,' Lucksworth said, appearing to feel sorry for the poor girl. 'Neville, you're next.'

Neville shakily stepped in front of the bloodstained mirror. He was not even standing there for two minutes before he suddenly fell into a dead faint.

'I rather expected at least one student to faint. Hmm . . . Mr. Thomas,' he said to Dean, who was standing next in line. 'Would you be so kind as to take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing after you have finished?'

'Yes, sir,' Dean replied. Then he took his turn at the mirror.

And so it continued. Most people looked rather depressed after their turn and some cried like Lavender. Some flinched as if they had been hit or screamed at, while others yelled back angrily at their visions. However, there were also a few students that appeared unfazed by what they saw – either that or they were just able to hide it very well. And there were only two students who Lucksworth had to guide away from the mirror to end the visions himself.

Finally, only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and Pansy remained in the classroom after all the other students had gone.

'Right, Mr. Weasley, it's your turn,' Lucksworth said.

Ron swallowed loudly before taking his turn at the mirror.

Harry watched Ron closely, seeing how his face paled as the vision continued. Ron bit his lip nervously, as if trying to fight back something. Moments later, he stepped back from the mirror. He didn't say anything to Harry or Hermione when he went to fetch his things – he just left.

'Miss Granger.'

With her fists clenched loosely at her sides, Hermione stepped in front of the Mirror of Niap. After a while, her bottom lip began to shake and tears ran down her face, but she firmly remained where she was. When she finally stepped away, she was crying uncontrollably and didn't seem to know where to go.

Harry stepped out of the line to comfort his friend.

'There there,' he said soothingly, rubbing her back. 'Things will be all right, Hermione.' He led her to her desk and helped collect her things together.

'Thanks, Harry,' Hermione said between sobs. 'Good luck,' she sniffed. Then she left the classroom.

When Harry returned to the line, he realized that Pansy had taken her turn in front of the mirror. She had a dark look on her face and her brows were furrowed together, as if she was angry at the vision she saw. She appeared more angry than sad when she finally left the classroom.

'Mr. Malfoy.'

Holding his chin up, Malfoy stood in front of the mirror. Unsurprisingly, he seemed unfazed by what he saw; he regarded his vision coolly and his expression did not change.

"Such typical Malfoy-ism," Harry thought. "He rarely shows his emotions, unless it is contempt or unless it is happiness because of someone else's pain."

"Not true," said the little voice inside his head. "You have also seen him in the throes of passion. You have seen the longings in his eyes, felt the desires of his heart."

_Thump._

"But how long will that be enough? How long before I start asking him for more?"

Malfoy stepped away from the mirror a moment later, appearing as emotionless as when he had stepped in front of it. He slowly gathered his things, glancing at Harry every now and then as he did so.

'Mr. Potter.'

Harry walked up to the mirror.

There, in front of him, stood none other than . . .

"Draco . . ." Harry thought longingly.

'_Potter_,' the vision-Malfoy said coldly, as if in response to Harry's thoughts. '_I do not love you_.'

Harry stiffened.

"What—?"

'_I only want you for your body. I only want to fuck you, knowing that I am fucking the great Harry Potter. Other than that, I want nothing to do with you!'_

The Gryffindor felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he did not let them fall.

"Why don't you love me? Why won't you even give me a chance to love you?" he willed.

'_You are _nothing_ to me, Potter! Nothing!_'

"No . . . Why . . . ?"

'_I am a Malfoy. Malfoys do not get involved with such lowly scum like you. We only use people like you for our own pleasures._' The vision-Malfoy smiled cruelly.

"No, that's not true . . ." Harry closed his eyes and turned away from the mirror.

'Mr. Potter,' Lucksworth said, 'perhaps it is better if you step away.'

'No,' Harry said, reopening his eyes and looking back into the mirror.

'But Mr. Potter—'

'No,' Harry said again.

'_But you're different, since you're Harry Potter. I must admit, I'm not just using you as I would others . . ._'

Harry's heart skipped a beat, but then –

'_I am also trying to _hurt_ you_.'

His heart dropped.

'_We are enemies, Potter, stupid Potter. If you really knew me by now, you would know that I only want to hurt you. I do not care about such things as your _feelings_. I do not care about you and I will certainly never _love _you, not in a million years!_'

Firming his resolve, he thought, "Fine. If my body is all you want, then it's yours. I'm not telling you that you have to love me back. I am just asking that you don't push me away – don't tell me that I am not allowed to love you."

'_I do not love you, Potter_,' the vision said again, '_and you shouldn't love me!_'

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat.

"But I do. I can't help it that I do."

And he stepped away from the mirror, causing the vision to disappear.

'Perhaps you should sit down, Mr. Potter,' Lucksworth said.

'I'm fine,' Harry replied a little more harshly than he had intended. 'I . . . I think just need some time alone, professor,' he said a little more gently, as if to make amends.

Lucksworth nodded.

'Right, well, I'll just run along then.' He retrieved a couple of bedsheets from his desk and levitated them to cover the mirror before going into his office.

Meanwhile, Harry went to go gather his things and was surprised to see that Malfoy was still there.

'What?' he asked when he saw that the Slytherin was staring at him.

"Don't tell me that you don't love me," he thought, unable to get the vision out of his head. "I don't want to hear you say it again."

But his fears appeared to be ungrounded.

'Meet me tonight,' Malfoy said instead. 'In that room again.'

'What if I refuse?' Harry challenged.

'Do you want to?'

'No,' he admitted.

'Then why would you?' He leaned in towards Harry and his lips lightly brushed the latter's ear. 'I'll make it worth your while,' he said; he was so tantalizingly close. 'I promise.' The blond licked the shell of Harry's ear, causing the Gryffindor to shiver in response. 'I thought so.' And he moved away again.

After a quick glance around the room to ensure that everyone was, indeed, gone, Harry grabbed Malfoy's shoulders and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

'You are such a tease, Draco,' he said a few moments later, their lips still close enough to brush against each other when Harry spoke.

'You know you love it,' Malfoy said with a smirk.

_Thump._

"No," Harry thought. "I love _you_. When will you finally see that?"

_Thump._

"And when will I finally have the courage to tell you myself?"

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It wasn't until a few hours later that Harry and Hermione were finally able to have their due conversation. Ron had gone off to detention with Professor Snape because his potion practically blew up in class the other day and scorched half of the students' robes, as well as one of Snape's ingredients cupboards.

The two Gryffindors decided to sit under a tree beside the lake, where they watched the giant squid bask in the shallow waters while they talked.

'So, Harry, has anything . . . new developed?' Hermione asked cautiously, shifting a bit as she tried to get more settled on the grass.

'Yeah, I guess,' Harry shrugged. 'I . . . um . . . saw him outside on the night of the pixies.'

'Did you now?' Hermione did not say anything further since already seemed to know what happened afterwards.

'Yeah . . . Hermione . . . Can I tell you something . . . in confidence?" Harry said nervously.

'Of course.'

'You can't tell anyone – not even Ron . . . _especially _not Ron.'

Hermione suddenly appeared more alert.

'Of course, Harry. What is it? What's wrong?'

'Today, in class, when I looked into the Mirror of Niap, I saw . . . Malfoy.'

His friend seemed to settle down a bit again.

'I rather expected that, Harry,' she said. 'After all, you can't get your mind off of him and he seems to be a big part of your life right now.'

'But it doesn't make sense!' Harry said in agitation. 'I mean, this hasn't even been going on for very long, so how can something _he _does be something that will hurt me more than anything?'

'Your feelings for him are strong, even though it hasn't been very long since you started feeling this way.'

'Does that mean I . . . love him?' Harry asked.

'I don't know,' Hermione replied with a slight frown. 'What does your heart tell you?'

Harry did not say anything; he already knew the answer.

'If you do love him,' Hermione said softly, 'please be careful. Remember who his father is, Harry. Remember who his father works for.'

'He's not his father, Hermione.'

'But he is still controlled by him,' Hermione responded, looking rather sad. 'At least, that's what the situation appears to be for the time-being.'

There was an awkward pause.

Then Harry suddenly asked, 'What if Malfoy is a Deatheater-in-training? Things are already complicated enough since he's a Slytherin and a Malfoy, but if he's a Deatheater too? I don't think that I would be able to deal with that.' Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier than it already was. 'I don't know what to do, Hermione!'

'I cannot tell you what to do, Harry. You have to decide that for yourself.'

'That's what makes it so hard. I don't know if he's working for his father. I don't know if he's working for Voldemort. I don't even know if he wants me or if he's just pretending. I don't know anything!'

'But what you _do _know is that you care for him, Harry, and that he's important to you. You have to ask yourself how much you're willing to give up in order to love him? How much would you be willing to give up if he loves you back?'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked, not realizing that he had very rarely, if ever, thought about how things would turn out if Malfoy actually loved him back.

'You would still have to face his father and You-Know-Who, but you would do it with him by your side,' she warned. 'But then you would also have to risk the exposure of your heart to tell him that you love him in the first place, or how else would he know?'

'That doesn't really answer the question, Hermione,' Harry muttered, realizing that she was just reeling off the thoughts in her head.

'Well, if he loves you back, it would still be . . . difficult for you two to be together – you may face some hostilities on both sides. The Malfoys aren't exactly well-loved on our side and if Malfoy _is _a Deatheater, then I hardly think that You-Know-Who would want him to be dating Harry Potter.' She paused to draw breath. 'If he's with you and continues to be a Deatheater, he may be murdered, and if he runs away with you, he _will _be murdered. Are you willing to risk both your lives to be with him?'

Harry remained silent and glanced out at the rippling waters of the lake. Hermione's words ran through his head cyclically. She was right, of course. There was so much that he would have to give up regardless of what he decided to do. Loving Malfoy openly would put both their lives at risk. He, Harry, was already a marked man, so it would not really matter to him . . . but he did not want Draco to die too, because of him and his uncontrollable emotions.

_How much would you be willing to give up to love him? How much would you be willing to give up if he loves you back?_

_How much . . . ?_

'I don't know,' Harry whispered, burying his face in his hands. 'I really don't know.'

"Draco . . . Why is it so hard to love you?"

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	7. Chapter VII

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**(Chapter VII)**

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After practically shoveling down his dinner that night, Harry hurried upstairs to his dormitory to retrieve his Invisibility Cloak. Once there, he carefully hid it under his robes before making his way downstairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, where he saw Hermione reading a book by the fire.

'Hi, Harry,' she greeted, barely lifting her eyes.

'Hi. Bye,' Harry said curtly, hoping he didn't sound too rude.

There must have been something strange in his voice or manner, however, because his friend suddenly looked up.

'Are you going out?' she asked, already knowing the answer.

'Um . . . Yeah,' he replied. With a lowered voice, he added, 'But I have my Invisibility Cloak, so you don't have to worry about me getting caught.'

'You know that's not what I'm worried about,' she said.

He sighed.

'Do you think that what I'm doing is wrong?'

'Do you?' she challenged.

Harry didn't answer, so Hermione sighed.

'I had a feeling that you were going to go out again tonight,' she said.

'Is that why you left dinner so early?' Harry asked.

'Yes and no,' was her reply with a nonchalant shrug.

Now it was Harry's turn to sigh.

'I understand why you're worried,' he said, sitting down in an armchair beside her. 'I would be too.'

'Does Ron know about this yet?'

'You know he doesn't. Would I still be here if he did?'

Hermione put her book down on the coffee table and looked at Harry with her wide brown eyes.

'I hope that you tell him before he finds out on his own,' she said. 'He'll be hurt much less if you do.'

'But he'll still be hurt.'

'Yes,' she agreed. 'There's no avoiding that.'

'Do you think he's noticed anything?' Harry questioned anxiously.

'You staring at a certain someone, you mean? I don't think so – not yet, anyway.'

'Oh, good,' Harry said with relief. After seeing the look on his friend's face, however, he added, 'I _will _tell him though . . . eventually.'

'I hope you do. I don't like keeping secrets from him, especially something as important as this.'

Harry nodded. Then, suddenly noticing the time, he stood up.

'Sorry, Hermione, but I have to go now.'

'Okay,' she said with downcast eyes.

There was a pause, then, 'Look at me,' Harry said gently, and she hesitantly looked up. 'I'll tell him, okay? Trust me.'

The other Gryffindor nodded.

'Okay, Harry.' She coughed softly. 'Um . . . Have fun, I guess.'

'Thanks,' he said blushing. Then he slipped out of the room.

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As soon as he saw Harry leave the room, Ron stepped out into the open. He had been hiding in the shadows by the stairs, watching his friends anxiously. He made his way to the fireplace, where Hermione had picked up her book and resumed reading.

'Hi, Ron,' she said when she saw him approaching; she appeared somewhat uncomfortable to see him. 'Did you just get back from dinner?'

'No,' he replied. 'I'm heading down now, actually. I just finished my detention with Snape and came back to drop some things off in my dormitory.'

'Did you see Harry there earlier?' she asked strangely.

'No,' he said again. 'I might've just missed him.'

'Oh,' she said. 'Well, don't let me delay you then.'

'Don't worry, you're not delaying me,' he said with a smile. He sat down in the armchair that Harry had vacated and looked at her seriously. 'Hermione?'

'Yes?' she inquired, avoiding his gaze.

'We need to talk.'

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After leaving Gryffindor Tower, Harry waited until he had just turned the corner before slipping out his Invisibility Cloak from under his robes and throwing it over him. Now hidden from any prying eyes, he made his way downstairs to the dungeons; it did not take him long. He hastily strode down the stairs, past the classroom where he had potions with the other students. Further and further . . . he could see his breath in front of him, appearing and disappearing as quickly as the wind. His heartbeat quickened with excitement.

Soon he encountered a familiar stone wall.

'Paramecium,' he said without hesitation, and the wall slid sideways, revealing a room beyond.

Harry suddenly remembered the last time that he was here, the details as clear as if it had just happened.

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_'I'm surprised that you used a muggle word as your password.'_

_The Slytherin's usually pale face became flushed._

_'It isn't a muggle word—it is a science word,' he said defensively._

_'And science is something from the muggles.'_

_'Well . . . Whatever,' Malfoy snapped. 'I-I wasn't the one who created the password.'_

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He had been both surprised and amused that Malfoy used a muggle word as a password, since he and his family were proud purebloods to the point that they mocked anything even remotely related to muggles.

"It seems that there's still a lot about Draco that I don't know," he thought. "Well, I look forward to finding out."

Harry entered the room . . . and was suddenly hit with a jinx! He grunted in pain as he was thrown against the opposite wall. All the breath was knocked out of his lungs and it took him a moment to recover.

"What happened?" he wondered, straining his ears for any hint of who had done this to him. "Did someone find out about this room? What if . . . what if they got Draco?! Or . . ." His heart stopped. "Or what if . . . Draco was the one who led them here . . . ?"

'No . . .' he groaned.

He heard soft footsteps approaching him.

'Where the hell were you?' asked a cold voice.

That voice was so . . . familiar.

'Draco?' Harry inquired; he saw the blond step out of the shadows.

'Where the hell were you?' Malfoy asked again.

'Dinner,' the Gryffindor said simply.

'But I asked you to meet me here.'

'But you didn't say _when_,' Harry reminded him. 'So don't get all mad at me for being so-called "late".'

His mouthiness earned him a hard slap in the face.

'What the hell was that for?' he demanded, tasting blood.

'I thought you deserved some punishment,' Malfoy said, but there was a mischievous tone in his voice now, which Harry picked up on immediately.

'Kinky,' he snickered, looking into the steel that was Malfoy's eyes.

'I thought so too,' the latter said. With a wave of his wand, he released Harry from his bonds.

Harry immediately grabbed the Slytherin's shoulders and threw him against the wall. Then he leaned in for a bruising kiss. Malfoy's lips were so soft and smooth, and they pushed back against Harry's with equal ferocity. Their tongues met, slipping and sliding against each other in a battle for dominance. Malfoy won and Harry willingly let him enter his mouth, allowed him to explore and taste the cavern within.

'Mmm,' Harry moan softly when the kiss had ended.

'Come on,' Malfoy said. He led Harry towards a four-poster bed in the corner, with black hangings and strange green lights hovering above it.

'You planned this well,' Harry said, impressed. 'That bed wasn't here before. Only that table and chair,' he added, nodding at the two in the corner.

'Can you blame me?' the blond asked. 'I've wanted to fuck you since we left Defense Against the Dark Arts.'

'I like the sound of that.' Harry lay down on the bed, pulling Malfoy down on top of him as he did so.

The two teens stared at each other for a few moments, reveling in the sensation of their bodies pressed so close together.

Malfoy's hand slithered towards Harry's face and he gently cupped his cheek, almost tenderly so.

'Draco,' Harry breathed, closing his eyes to enjoy the touch.

'Kiss me,' the Slytherin said softly, although it was an order nonetheless.

And Harry lifted his head to oblige.

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'Hermione,' Ron said softly. 'Please tell me the truth.'

'A-about what?' Hermione stuttered nervously.

The redhead sighed softly.

'You know what.'

When Hermione's face remained slightly black, he finally said, 'Harry's shagging someone, isn't he?'

A strange look appeared on his friend's face, as if she could not decide whether to be upset or relieved that he had asked that.

'Er . . . Why do you ask?'

'Well, I sort of already knew . . . I didn't mean to eavesdrop,' he said suddenly, 'but I heard you both talking just now when I came downstairs.'

'Is that so? Why didn't you just come over?'

He was unable to meet her gaze.

'I . . . I don't think I was supposed to hear you,' he said. 'You guys only caught my attention when you said, "Does Ron know about this yet?"'

Hermione turned scarlet.

'I'm really sorry, Ron,' she said, clutching at his sleeve. 'I . . . I really wanted to tell you before, but it's not really my secret to tell. How much did you hear?'

'Enough,' he replied simply.

The other Gryffindor shifted anxiously in her chair, but said nothing.

'I just don't understand why neither of you could tell me,' he said. 'I mean, Harry's my best mate, so I'm happy as hell that he's getting himself laid.' He snickered softly. 'I always knew that he would be the first.'

'Out of . . .?'

'Well, _us_,' Ron said, flushing slightly. 'You know, the three of us.'

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush.

'Oh,' was all she said. Then, 'So . . . you're not upset about this?' she asked carefully.

'Upset? Well, yeah, I am . . . a little . . . since you guys wouldn't tell me and I had to find out on my own.'

'Oh,' she said again. 'Well, that's a relief. We both thought you would lose your head over this.'

'Nah,' Ron shrugged. 'We've been through worse. Remember the time I . . . well, uh . . . I got a bit jealous when he was entered in the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Ron,' Hermione said somewhat sternly. 'I hardly think Harry's admission in the Triwizard Tournament is as shocking as Harry shagging Malfoy.'

'. . . WHAT?!'

It was as if a bomb had suddenly exploded in Gryffindor Tower. Everyone who was in the Common Room turned their attention to the fireplace; indeed, even some students who were upstairs in their dormitories came down to see what all the commotion was – or rather, who. What they saw was a red-faced Ron, on his feet and glaring at Hermione with icy eyes. The other Gryffindors half-expected him to burst into flame with the force of his anger.

'WHAT THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!' he screamed at the top of his voice.

'Ron, keep your voice down!' Hermione hissed, her own face flaring red.

'NO! I WILL NOT KEEP MY VOICE DOWN UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!'

Losing her patience, Hermione stood up to face him and loudly said, 'RONALD WEASLEY!' in a perfect impersonation of his mother.

Ron flinched noticeably.

'HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME!' She whipped out her wand and waved it in his direction with a muttered incantation.

Ron suddenly felt as if an invisible hand was pushing against him, and he was forced back into his seat.

'Now we may talk in a quiet, more _civilized_, manner,' the witch said, resuming her own seat.

Ron frowned.

'Fine,' he said stubbornly, crossing his arms.

There was an awkward pause as they waited for the other students to resume whatever they were doing. It wasn't until the two Gryffindors were sure that there were no more prying eyes watching them before continuing with their conversation.

'Why did you suddenly explode like that?' Hermione demanded.

The wizard had the decency to look ashamed.

'You said Harry was shagging Malfoy!' Ron exclaimed, still red-faced.

'I thought you knew!' she said in return. 'You _said_ that you knew!'

'I knew that he was shagging _someone_,' the redhead said earnestly. 'I didn't know that that someone was _Malfoy_, of all people!'

Hermione looked away.

'How could I have been so stupid?' she muttered to herself. 'You only know about Malfoy now because of me!'

'Don't beat yourself over it,' Ron said, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. 'It was just a mistake and I'm . . . er . . . glad I know, sort of.' He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 'But why would Harry _do _this to us?'

Hermione raised her head again and glared at Ron.

'He didn't do anything to us, Ron. He's doing this for himself.'

Ron laughed darkly.

'For himself? Why? Does it make him happy to be Malfoy's bitch?'

His friend looked away again.

'Don't say that,' she said.

'Why?' Ron said again. 'Would it hurt him? Would it hurt the feelings of the Boy Who Lived?'

His head was suddenly whipped to the side when Hermione slapped him. The stinging continued well after she pulled her hand away and his eyes welled up with tears.

'Don't ever say that, Ron, especially in front of Harry,' she said with tears in her own eyes.

'So you're on his side then?' the wizard asked, rubbing his pained cheek. 'It figures that you would choose Harry over me.'

'It's not like that!' Hermione said anxiously. 'Look, I'm really sorry that I hit you Ron, it's just . . . it's just that . . . there's something between them that you can't understand, that neither of us can understand. You shouldn't make fun of it if you don't understand it.'

'It's Harry I don't understand,' he said ruefully. 'Why did Harry choose Malfoy, rat in the shadows, the scum of the earth?' Ron looked at her, as if expecting her to give him all of the answers . . . as usual.

'I don't think that Harry chose Malfoy,' Hermione said wisely. 'I think that it was destiny.'

'I thought that you didn't believe in destiny,' Ron pointed out, somewhat awestruck.

'I don't,' the witch admitted. 'But I _do _believe in love and in this case . . . well . . . they're sort of related.'

Ron let out a hollow laugh.

'Love?'

Hermione nodded.

'Get off it,' Ron snorted. 'Harry doesn't love Malfoy! This is just a . . . a phase he's going through. It's just an infatuation.'

'And you know all about that, do you?' Hermione asked with a raised brow. 'You are really thick-headed sometimes, Ronald Weasley.'

The redhead shrugged.

'It's more likely to be true than Harry being in love,' he said. 'There's no way in hell that he's in love with Malfoy.'

"Right?" he wondered anxiously.

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_Hold me . . ._

_Kiss me . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

_Don't ever leave me . . ._

_Don't ever let me go . . ._

_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

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When Harry kissed him, his arms wrapped around the Slytherin and Draco's hand almost imperceptibly clutched the brunet's face tighter.

"I don't want to let you go," the latter thought anxiously. "You've become more important to me than I'd care to admit, Harry."

_Thump._

His thumb gently stroked Harry's cheek with a tenderness that was uncharacteristic of a Malfoy, but he didn't care.

'Oh, Draco,' Harry moaned breathlessly.

Still holding the Gryffindor's face, Draco pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. Their hearts beat loudly in their chests as emerald met steel.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

'You're mine, you know that?' the blond said.

Something flashed in Harry's eyes, but it disappeared too suddenly for Draco to decipher what it was.

'Only if you're mine,' he whispered huskily.

Draco didn't know what to say, so instead he pulled the brunet in for another heart-stopping kiss. Meanwhile, his hand slid down to cup the other wizard between his legs.

Harry moaned appreciatively and flexed his hips in the direction of the touch as the Slytherin began to pump him up and down, rubbing him in all the right ways.

'Oh, Draco,' he groaned, his eyes falling shut.

'There's much more where that came from,' the blond said, smiling seductively. He undid Harry's trousers with a flourish and reached down with his other hand to divest of the clothing completely. He proceeded to do the same with the Gryffindor's robes and shirt, and soon the latter was naked and squirming beneath him.

'Take me, Draco,' he said, his nipples hardening in the cool air. 'Take me now.'

The blond's eyes darkened further with passion, until the silky grey of his irises was almost black.

'Not yet,' Draco replied. His mouth latched itself onto one of the dark welcoming buds and he sucked and licked it, causing Harry to moan with pleasure. Then he switched to the other one and his hand reached down to rub the brunet's cock again; Harry moaned even louder.

'Oh! Oh! Yes!'

When it appeared that the Gryffindor couldn't take anymore, Draco flipped him over onto his stomach.

Knowing what was coming, Harry moaned softly; the sound was muffled by the bed sheets beneath him.

Draco unzipped his trousers and whipped out his member, which was already hard and wet because of the noises that the brunet was making.

'Wait,' Harry said, trying to twist around to see his lover. 'Aren't you going to take off your clo— oh!' His question ended in a moan when the Slytherin suddenly entered him. It was both silk and steel, pleasure and pain. Draco's length stretched him to the point that he felt like crying out . . . but then the blond began to move and only the pleasure remained.

The bed shook rhythmically as Draco drove into the Gryffindor again and again. Their moans echoed in unison throughout the empty chamber. Then Draco reached around and grasped Harry's cock in his slightly sweaty palm. He pumped up and down, he thrust in and out . . . It was more than either of them could take.

The teens came, simultaneously moaning each other's names, and collapsed onto the bed in a heap.

'That was . . . amazing,' Harry gasped, struggling slightly to breathe.

'Yeah,' Draco agreed, heavily drawing breath as well. 'You weren't so bad yourself.' He rolled off of his lover and rearranged himself more comfortably on the bed. 'Come here, Harry,' he said with open arms.

Harry smiled in spite of himself and lay down next to Draco, his head cushioned by one of the latter's arms.

'Aren't you going to take off your clothes too?' he asked.

'Do you want me to?' Draco asked with a raised brow.

Harry nodded and moved away to give the blond some space.

The Slytherin slipped out of his robes and carefully hung them from a hook on the bed. Then he proceeded to peel off his sweaty clothes and drop them unceremoniously on the floor.

Harry only had a moment to glimpse Draco's strong, pale body before the latter turned away to retrieve his wand, which he used to clear away the cum and turn out the lights.

Everything went dark. Then there were a few rustling noises as Draco put his wand away and settled back into place . . . with the Gryffindor lying snugly in his arms. Their legs loosely entwined and Draco pulled his lover closer, sighing when he felt Harry's warm breath on his neck. The blond closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, but his mind continued to wander.

Harry . . . his classmate . . . his lover . . . his saviour . . . his enemy . . .

Draco was embracing Harry Potter, the greatest enemy of the Dark Lord . . .

And he couldn't be happier.

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_Hold me . . ._

_Kiss me . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

_Don't ever leave me . . ._

_Don't ever let me go . . ._

_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

_Harry . . ._

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	8. Chapter VIII

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**(Chapter VIII)**

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Harry's body was telling him that it was time to get up . . . but there was no sunlight filtering into the room and he couldn't hear anyone shuffling around while getting ready for class. Essentially, nothing had changed since a few hours ago, and yet Harry somehow knew that it was time to get up. He turned to his side and saw Malfoy's face inches away from his own.

The Slytherin was still sleeping. His chest was gently moving up and down and his warm breaths tickled Harry's face and neck. He looked so peaceful.

The brunet reached up to tenderly stroke his lover's hair, which was slightly tousled from the night before; the movement seemed to cause Malfoy to wake up.

'Mmm?' he mumbled sleepily. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the wide grey irises beneath.

'G'morning,' Harry said softly.

Malfoy let out a huge yawn and stretched his arms out to the side.

'Good morning,' he replied, planting a firm kiss on Harry's lips. 'What time is it?'

'Don't know.'

Malfoy disentangled himself from the bed sheets and reached into the pocket of his robes, from which he pulled out a watch. When he looked at it, his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

'What? What is it?' Harry asked sleepily, turning on his side to look at the other teen.

Sighing, the blond returned the watch to his pocket and looked at Harry with forced calmness.

'We're late.'

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Fifteen minutes later, the two teens were standing in front of McGonagall's classroom, breathing harder than usual from the rush they had been in that morning.

Harry tucked in his shirt and smoothed down his hair in an attempt to look as if he had _not _been out shagging all night.

'We better go in separately,' Malfoy suggested, adjusting his tie.

Harry nodded in agreement.

'So do you want to go first? Or should I?' he asked, still slightly flushed from their run.

'I'll go,' the blond said.

Harry nodded again, so Malfoy pushed open the door and walked in.

"I'd better wait a bit," Harry decided, making sure to stand out of sight of the open door.

From inside the classroom, he could hear the strict professor chastising Malfoy for being late.

'5 points will be taken from Slytherin,' she said sternly. 'Over-sleeping is not an excuse for tardiness.'

Harry sighed, trying to think of a valid excuse to tell her.

When he thought that enough time had passed, he hitched his bag up higher on his shoulder and entered the classroom. The first person he saw was McGonagall, who was looking at him sternly through her squared spectacles.

'Late as well, Mr. Potter?' she said disapprovingly.

'Sorry, Professor,' Harry murmured.

'And what is your excuse this morning?'

'I . . . I forgot something and had to go back for it,' he said lamely.

'And that made you 25 minutes late for class?' she replied, clearly not believing his story. 'Very well, you make take a seat . . . and 5 points will be taken from Gryffindor.'

Groaning inwardly, Harry made his way towards his friends and sat down beside Ron; Hermione was sitting alone in front of them.

'Now, as I was saying,' McGonagall said, continuing on with the lesson.

'Hey,' Harry muttered to the redhead while pulling out his things.

Instead of the usual "hey" in reply, Ron just looked at him coldly and asked, 'Why aren't you sitting with your new friend Malfoy?'

Harry almost fell out of his chair in surprise.

'What?'

Now Ron stared straight ahead and seemed to want to avoid looking at Harry completely.

'I know, Harry. I know all about you two.'

Harry flushed.

'What do you know?' he asked.

'Enough,' Ron said simply.

Hermione, who appeared to have been listening in on their conversation, leaned back and whispered, 'Ron! Now is not the appropriate time to be talking to Harry about this.'

Harry stared at her.

'It was you!' he accused. 'You told him! No one else could have known.'

Hermione turned around, her face beet red with shame.

'I'm really, really sorry, Harry,' she said softly. 'It was an accident! I didn't mean to!'

'Yeah, right,' Harry said. 'You were the one saying that I should tell him.'

'Hey, don't get mad at Hermione!' Ron hissed. 'She's right – you _should _have told me.'

'And I was going to!' Harry said. 'I was going to tell you soon, maybe even today.'

'Whatever,' Ron said, his fists shaking slightly with rage. 'No apology is going to change anything.'

'Apology? Ha!' Harry scoffed. 'I don't owe you an apology, Weasley! My personal life is just that – mine! And if I want to tell you anything about _my _personal life, that's up to me and only me, savvy?'

'Yeah? Well, we're supposed to be friends, Harry, and friends would tell other friends if their suddenly shagging an enemy!'

'He's not an enemy!' Harry said.

'He _is _an enemy!' Ron insisted. 'Remember who his father is, Harry. Remember who his father works for.'

"That's exactly what Hermione said," Harry realized.

'We're supposed to be friends, Harry,' Ron said again. '_Best _friends. If you can't trust me, then . . . why are we friends at all?'

Harry was about to reply, when a voice suddenly interrupted.

'Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter,' McGonagall called from the front of the classroom. 'Will you _kindly _refrain from holding personal conversations while in _my _class? Your incessant whispering is disrupting the other students.'

And indeed, about half the class was turned their way and staring at them with daggers in their eyes.

'Sorry,' Harry mumbled.

'Sorry,' Ron said as well. 'Um . . . Professor, I'm not feeling too well. Is it okay if I go see Madam Pomfrey?'

McGonagall sighed irritably.

'Very well,' she said, waving her hand in dismissal.

'Thanks.' The redhead gathered his things together and left the classroom, only pausing long enough to mumble a quick goodbye to Hermione.

Harry stared blankly at front of the class, frowning and not really paying attention to anything that was going on. This was not how he had expected Ron to find out and it was certainly not the way that he had _wanted _Ron to find out. He glanced at Hermione – it was her fault after all.

As if she had felt his gaze, Hermione turned around to look at him.

'I'm really, really sorry, Harry,' she said again. 'And Ron is, too – or will be. He just . . . exploded like that because he's worried about you, because he's been holding it in since he found out.'

'When did he find out?' Harry asked icily.

'Last night. He . . . er . . . overheard us talking and he figured out that you were shagging somebody . . . and then I accidentally let slip that that "somebody" is Malfoy.'

Harry nodded, but did not say anything more.

'Sorry,' Hermione said one last time before returning her attention to the lesson.

Harry stared at the back of her head . . . and perhaps he was just imagining it, but he could swear that she was not looking at McGonagall at all. In fact, she seemed to be looking at a certain blond sitting at the front of the classroom . . .

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'That is all for today, class,' McGonagall said, slipping her wand into the pocket of her emerald robes. 'Next class, we shall further discuss transfiguration techniques on how to change facial features.'

There was a loud scuffling and scraping of chairs as the students stood up and gathered their things together, all the while talking and laughing.

'Did you see what Parvati did to Lavender?' Seamus was asking Dean. 'That was classic!'

'Oh yeah?' Parvati asked, slightly offended. 'What about what you did to Dean?'

'That wasn't as bad,' Seamus said.

'Uh-huh!' Parvati injected.

The two of them continued to bicker as they left the classroom with the others, closely followed by Lavender and Dean. The latter both had disproportional facial features and were headed straight for the Hospital Wing.

Soon, only Harry and Hermione left in the classroom with McGonagall, who was marking some papers on her desk.

'Er . . . I'll catch up to you later,' Hermione told Harry, seeing some of the Slytherins leave out of the corner of her eye. 'I have to go to the teacher's lounge for a moment.'

'Right,' Harry said. 'See you.'

Hermione waited until he had left the classroom before exiting herself and following Malfoy down the corridor. He was walking with Crabbe and Goyle and the three of them were laughing at something, probably a prank that they had played on a younger student. Then they stopped suddenly and Malfoy pointed at something in the next corridor, which his cronies immediately went after.

This was her chance.

'Hey, Malfoy!' she called out.

He turned around and his laughter faded.

'What do you want?' he asked, not unkindly.

'I want to talk to you,' she said, fidgeting slightly.

'About Harry?'

Hermione nodded.

'Come on then,' he said, sighing. 'Let's get this over with. I expected you to come talk to me sooner or later.'

'Where are Crabbe and Goyle?' she asked, hastily leading the way along the corridor to find an empty classroom; things may not bode well if people saw her with Draco Malfoy.

'I told them that there's a floating bar of Honeydukes chocolate in the Charms corridor, so now they're looking for it. It doesn't exist of course,' he added, snickering slightly.

'Why did you tell them that?'

'Oh, come on, Granger,' he said. 'I thought you're supposed to be smart. Obviously, I just wanted to get rid of them. Would you want to be around two dim-witted thugs 24/7?'

Hermione smiled with amusement.

'If you think that about them, why are you with them all the time?'

'That's obvious too,' Malfoy said simply.

Hermione knew that it would not be wise to pry.

'Ah, here we are,' she said, finding an empty room at last. She stepped inside and waited for Malfoy to enter as well before she closed the door behind them.

'So?' he asked, shoving his hands into his pocket and casually leaning against a desk. 'What do you want?'

'To talk,' she said. 'I have a few questions for you and I want you to answer honestly.'

'I may . . . but that depends on what you ask,' Malfoy replied.

'Fair enough. Okay, first question . . .' Hermione breathed deeply, bracing herself. This conversation with Malfoy was decided on a whim after she had seen Harry and Ron arguing about the relationship between Harry and Malfoy, so she had not really planned it out. 'Why are you so interested in Harry?'

Malfoy laughed slightly.

'He's the Boy Who Lived, Granger. Who _isn't _interested in him?'

'A lot of people are interested in him,' she concurred, 'but not in the way that you are.'

'Aren't they?' he challenged. 'There are at least five people in each one of Harry's classes that want to shag him – inclusive.'

'Meaning . . .?'

'Guys and girls.'

Hermione flushed slightly.

'How do you know that?' she asked.

'I can tell by the way that people look at him.'

'No doubt you've noticed because you look at him the same way,' she said; it was not a question.

Malfoy appeared unfazed and he neither confirmed nor denied the statement.

'Fine,' Hermione said. 'Next question: why is he so interested in you?'

'Because I'm a Malfoy,' Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. 'How the hell am I supposed to know that, Granger?'

The witch's nostrils flared slightly in annoyance.

'You must know _something_!' she insisted. 'Hasn't he ever said anything to you? Haven't there been any signs or hints?'

'I don't know,' Malfoy said. 'Are you stupid? Why don't you ask him?'

Hermione's fists clenched.

'Fine,' she said again. 'Last question: what do you feel when you're with him and where do you think this relationship is going?'

Of all the questions she asked, this was the only one that seemed to throw off the Slytherin, for he didn't answer.

'That's two questions,' he finally said, 'and my feelings and my agenda are none of your business.'

'Ah, so you _do _feel something!' Hermione smiled.

'Only hatred,' Malfoy said with gritted teeth. 'He's so annoying – stupid, perfect Potter. I hate him. I just want to fuck him for the sheer satisfaction of fucking him. Then I just want to throw him away like yesterday's garbage and break his stupid, perfect heart!'

Hermione's smile disappeared.

'You don't mean that,' she said. 'You can't mean that.'

'Why the bloody hell not? You know what happens to witches and wizards when they get too depressed, right, Granger?' He did not give Hermione a chance to reply before he spoke again. 'Their magic gets all messed up. Most of them even have trouble doing the simplest of spells. Now think . . . Why would I want Potter to be magically vulnerable? Why would I want him to be weak?'

Hermione's eyes widened in fear.

'So that You-Know-Who can finish him off!' she cried out. 'You monster! You cruel, cruel monster!'

Malfoy shrugged.

'Only on the inside,' he said. 'On the outside, I'm the sexiest thing that will ever fuck the great Harry Potter . . . obviously,' he finished with a smile.

Tears streaming down her face, Hermione pulled out her wand and shakily pointed it at Malfoy.

'Go ahead,' he challenged. 'If I'm dead, then he'll still be depressed and the Dark Lord will be able to conquer him – mission accomplished.' He smirked. 'And you can go ahead and tell him – tell anyone! Who would believe you?'

Hermione angrily shoved her wand back into her pocket and stormed out of the room, obviously intent on finding Harry and telling him the truth. However, she took a moment to turn around and glare at him.

'It takes a certain kind of person to make love to someone without falling in love with him, Malfoy,' she said. 'If you're that kind of person and you end up hurting Harry, I will personally see to it that you pay.'

Then she left.

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Malfoy stared at the open door, through which the witch had just disappeared through.

_It takes a certain kind of person to make love to someone without falling in love with him._

'I'm not that kind of person,' he said to no one in particular. 'Can't you see, Granger? Can't you tell? I've already fallen in love with him.'

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_Hold me . . ._

_Kiss me . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

_Don't ever leave me . . ._

_Don't ever let me go . . ._

_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

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' . . . but he can never know that. If he knew, then he would never understand why I have to do this . . .'

Suddenly, the memory of his assignment – or rather, his mission – flashed through his head.

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'_Malfoy,' Voldemort said in his silky voice._

'_Yes, my lord?' Lucius said from beneath his Death Eater's mask._

'_Not you, Lucius, but your son,' Voldemort said impatiently. 'Draco, come!'_

_Lucius stiffened slightly as if to refuse the request, but then he placed his hand on Draco's shoulder and nudged him forwards slightly – he did not dare defy his lord, no one did._

'_Our lord is calling for you, Draco,' he said softly._

_The other Death Eaters watched as the teen approached the Dark Lord, some appearing jealous that they had been chosen for a private audience._

_Draco ignored their stares and proceeded forwards, dropping to one knee when he was a few feet away from Voldemort._

'_Rise,' the latter said._

_Draco stood, although he did not look his lord in the eye._

'_You wish to be a Death Eater?' Voldemort asked, although it was not really a question._

'_Yes, my lord,' the blond replied softly from beneath his mask._

'_And what are you willing to do to join their honourable ranks?'_

'_Anything. Everything.'_

'_Good. I have a mission for you,' the Dark Lord continued, hissing slightly._

'_Does it concern Harry Potter, my lord?'_

'_Yes. I want you to bring him here.'_

_Draco's brows furrowed together in confusion._

'_I, my lord?' he asked. Certainly there had to be a mistake._

'_Yes,' Voldemort said impatiently. 'You have access to him while he in Hogwarts and under the nose and protection of that muggle-loving fool.' His eyes flared red. 'Bring him to me, so that I may finish him.'_

_Draco was still confused. Why was _he _chosen for this task amongst all of the Death Eaters? Why was _he_ expected to succeed when all the others had failed? Unless . . . he wasn't supposed to succeed. Draco fought the urge to look at his father, who appeared fearful of what the Dark Lord had in store for his son._

_Lucius was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, straining to hear the hushed conversation, but unable to._

'_Yes, my lord,' the blond finally said, realizing that his entire family may be killed if he refused. 'I shall try.'_

'_Do not try, Malfoy,' Voldemort said, his anger flaring up. 'Do! I want Potter to be finished once and for all.'_

'_Yes, my lord,' Draco said again._

_Having nothing more to say, the Dark Lord waved his hand in dismissal and Draco shrank back to his place in the circle._

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'Harry,' Malfoy sighed softly, burying his head in his hands. 'Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry . . . I hope you will be able to forgive me . . .'

"It's not too late," his conscience told him. "You haven't done anything yet, so it's not too late to save him from his fate."  
"But the results . . ." he thought in despair. ". . . the consequences . . . the lives that would be lost . . . If I don't bring Harry to the Dark Lord, if I fail my mission, then my entire family will be murdered. How do I choose between the people I love?"

His conscience had no reply.

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	9. Chapter IX

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**( Chapter IX )**

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As expected, the moment Hermione left the classroom, she sought out Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room and told him everything that had transpired.

'He's just using you, Harry!' she said desperately at the end of her tale. 'He's just using you! Can't you see that?'

'Don't you think I know that, Hermione?' Harry asked.

'You knew about V-Voldemort?' she stuttered, clearly surprised.

'Well, no,' the other Gryffindor admitted, 'and that does complicate things . . . but I _did _know that he's just using me for sex, that he only _desires _me.'

_. . . Not loves me_. The unspoken phrase hung in the air.

'But that plan, that mission for Voldemort,' Harry began, 'the anxiety it ensues hardly compares to the anguish I feel that Draco doesn't want me – doesn't love me – for me.'

Hermione remained silent.

'I've dealt with Voldemort before and I know that I can never be rid of him, at least until one of us dies,' Harry shrugged. 'And I've accepted that.'

'How can you react so calmly?' Hermione asked, on the verge of more hysterics. 'Aren't you scared? Or worried?'

'No,' Harry said without hesitation. 'Just . . . empty.' He leaned back in his armchair and threw an arm over his eyes. 'Why does this have to be so difficult, so complicated?!'

'That's love,' Hermione said with wry grin.

Unknown to the pair, a certain redheaded teen was listening in the shadows of the stairwell, not believing his ears.

'Love,' Harry muttered darkly. 'Can't live with it, can't live without it.'

'So you really do love him then,' Ron finally spoke up, gazing at the brunet with furrowed brows.

Harry straightened up in his seat and glared back.

'What's it to you?'

'You can have anyone you want, Harry . . . so why Malfoy?'

Hermione stared between her two friends with a shocked look on her face.

'What do you care?' Harry demanded, upset that Ron was being so unreasonable, especially since this did not concern him. 'You'd get mad no matter who I was shagging, just because you're not getting some!'

Ron, angered further by Harry's tone, did not say anything more and stomped up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

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Weeks passed . . . and Draco continued to meet with Harry in secret, in the room that had become _theirs. _All the while, painful and guilt-ridden feelings raided his being; memories of his mission plagued his mind. It was a mission that he did not think he would ever be able to fulfill. To complete his mission . . . to bring Harry to the Dark Lord . . . Could he bear to have his soul ripped into shreds, knowing that he was the one who brought on his beloved's demise?

"I have to decide what to do quickly," Draco thought, as he made his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Maybe my family can go into hiding . . . No, it would be impossible for all of them to hide for long . . . Maybe _Harry _can go into hiding . . . No, it doesn't seem like something he would be willing to do, especially since the entire world may be in danger . . . Maybe I can commit suicide . . . But I don't think I would ever have the courage."

Confused and slightly dizzy, Draco sat down in the first empty seat he saw upon entering the classroom, not realizing that Harry and his friends were only a seat away.

Professor Lucksworth waited patiently at the front of the classroom as he waited for a few more students to filter in.

'Well, let's get started, shall we?' he said jollily. 'I have finished grading your mirror essays and, I must say, I was most definitely pleased with the results! Well done, class,' he said to a now more cheerful class. 'Well done indeed.' Then he started handing back the papers, murmuring comments to each student as he did so.

Draco did not even look at his essay when Lucksworth returned it to him; nor did he hear any of the comments that the professor muttered. His attention and his thoughts were fixed on only one thing – or rather, one person.

_Harry._

The Slytherin watched Harry's reaction as he read some of the comments written on his essay, the faint expression of surprise and pride glowing on his face.

"Very fetching indeed," the blond couldn't help thinking.

'Now,' Lucksworth said, attracting the students eyes to the front of the classroom once more, where he was standing in front of the blackboard, 'I would like to draw your attention to a common feature in most – if not all – the essays.'

Some of the students glanced dubiously at each other, doubtful that anyone could possibly feel what they felt.

'And that is . . .' Lucksworth paused for a moment, as if dramatizing the moment.

'Pain?' Pansy suggested with a smirk, since pain had been the central topic of the essays.

'In a fashion, yes,' the professor agreed. 'But actually, it is love.'

Draco, who had still surreptitiously been watching Harry, suddenly turned to the front to pay attention.

'Love?' Lavender echoed.

'Yes, love. Only a few essays that I read contained what some students actually _saw _in the mirror, but the feelings described by each of you all revolve around one concept – love. Many of you described a hollow, empty sensation in the pit of you being. Some of you, however, described an unbearable pain in your heart. From this, I – we – may deduce that the thing that can hurt you most, may also be the thing that you fear the most; the thing that can hurt you the most, may also be the thing that you love the most. Love is very powerful, magic or not. That is why it is important to understand that while the power to love can hurt, it can also heal.'

There was a rather uncomfortable silence that followed; a few students glanced at the professor in shock, as if horrified that he had shared their innermost feelings with the entire class.

The silence was only broken when Lucksworth spoke up once more.

'Now, please turn to page 315 of your textbooks, where we shall read about the Mirror of Niap in more depth.'

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That night, Harry was to meet Draco in the secret room again, where they had conjured a bed for their "meetings" weeks earlier. They had been meeting each other at irregular intervals and always at a different time to reduce the risk of getting caught . . . or followed. Over the past few weeks, Harry had yet to make up with his best friend and was in constant fear of losing him, but when he saw Draco, all those fears just disappeared . . . to be replaced with new ones.

"I'll tell him tonight," the Gryffindor decided as he slowly made his way to the secret room under his Invisibility Cloak. "He should know . . . even if he doesn't feel the same way."

Upon reaching the blank stretch of wall, Harry muttered the password and the wall slid open to reveal the hidden room behind it. He hurried into the room and saw that Draco was already waiting for him. Without saying a word, he whipped off his Invisibility Cloak and made his way to his lover, greeting him with a deep, passionate kiss.

'Ohh,' Draco moaned into his mouth, tangling his fingers in the brunet's hair. Then, after breaking away from the kiss, the Slytherin began kissing and biting at Harry's neck, leaving dark marks all along the column.

'Mmm,' Harry murmured.

'Let's go to the bed,' Draco suggested. 'There are naughty things that I want to do to you.'

Harry allowed the other teen to lead him to the bed, but he did not lie down, despite Draco's gentle nudges.

'Not yet,' he said, taking the latter's hand in his own. 'There's something I want to tell you.'

'Can't it wait?' Draco asked impatiently, already tugging at the front of the Gryffindor's robes.

'No,' Harry insisted. 'It's important.'

But just then, a memory suddenly came into Harry's mind . . . A cruel, biting memory . . .

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'_Potter_,' the vision-Malfoy said from the Mirror of Niap. '_I do not love you_. _I only want you for your body. I only want to fuck you, knowing that I am fucking the great Harry Potter. Other than that, I want nothing to do with you! You are _nothing _to me, Potter! Nothing!_ . . . _I am a Malfoy. Malfoys do not get involved with such scum like you. We only use people like you for our own pleasures._ _But you're different, since you're Harry Potter. I must admit, I'm not just using you as I would others . . ._ _I am also trying to hurt you_. _We are enemies, Potter, stupid Potter. If you really knew me by now, you would know that I only want to hurt you. I do not care about such things as your _feelings_. I do not care about you and I will certainly never _love _you, not in a million years!_ _I do not love you, Potter_, _and you shouldn't love me!_'

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"_I conquered . . ._"

'Harry, what's wrong?' Draco asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. He was surprised when the brunet had started shaking suddenly, as if holding back tears.

'I'm fine,' Harry muttered, turning away. 'I just . . . I just want to ask you something.'

The blond looked at him with quiet consent.

'Is . . .' Harry swallowed nervously, 'is it _me _you desire? Or just my body? Is there anything, _anything _that I can expect from this?'

Now it was Draco's turn to swallow.

"What should I tell him?" he wondered. "That I don't just desire him? That I actually love him, despite my upbringing? We're enemies . . . If I love him, if he loves me, what then?"

'I thought I already answered that,' Draco said, taking the coward's way out. 'I desire you, nothing more. Did I ever give you the impression that I wanted anything more?'

Harry's eyes gave the answer that he – a Gryffindor! – would not dare to say . . .

"Yes . . ."

'So . . . you only desire me for my body, for an empty shell to fuck?'

'. . . Yes,' Draco replied, hoping his eyes did not betray his true emotions.

'Then take it,' Harry said coldly, sending nasty shivers up the blond's spine. 'It's yours.' And he lay down on the bed, waiting . . . waiting for Draco to do as he will.

So he did.

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_Let me hold you . . ._

_Let me kiss you . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

_Don't ever leave me . . ._

_Don't ever let me go . . ._

_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

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Draco leaned over his lover and kissed him softly on the lips, coaxing, desiring . . . but although Harry's lips responded, it did not feel the same. Something was definitely wrong.

So he tried harder.

The blond gently cupped Harry's face and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into the hot cavern and exploring the depths within. He pressed the length of his body against Harry; he could feel the hardness and softness, the hurting and the healing, which were his beloved.

"I love you," Draco thought. "But I can never tell you that."

So the Slytherin tried to put his feelings of love into actions, since he would never be able to put them into words. He stroked and caressed every part of Harry's body that he could reach, while still kissing him. His hands deftly undid the clasps on Harry's robes and slid beneath them, rubbing the smooth expanse of his chest in slow circles, moving ever downwards to the growing hardness between his legs.

Harry moaned into his mouth when Draco finally reached his member and firmly, but gently, massaged it . . . then there was nothing but sensation.

'Harry,' Draco sighed, allowing his mouth to travel teasingly to the other's ear. 'Oh, Harry . . .'

"I love you, Harry," the blond was thinking as he made love to the Boy Who Lived. "Oh, how I love you. I don't ever want to leave your side."

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_I'll hold you . . ._

_I'll kiss you . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

_I won't ever leave you . . ._

_I won't ever let you go . . ._

_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

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'Harry,' Draco whispered huskily. 'I want you to take me this time.'

Harry looked at his lover through eyes clouded with passion.

'You do? Are you sure?'

'Definitely,' Draco said. 'I want to feel you inside me. I want you to thrust into me with . . .' He trailed off, his loose strokes on Harry's member completing the sentence for him.

"I want you to possess me. I want you to mark me as yours," he thought, although he would never dare say the words aloud.

'I want you to be completely mine,' the Slytherin finished.

'Can't you see, Draco?' Harry asked brokenly. 'Can't you tell?'

The words sounded vaguely familiar to Draco's ears . . . They were very similar to something that Draco had said to Granger not so long ago.

'I'm already yours,' Harry said. 'You already have me.'

His shaky tone tore at Draco's heart like a million knives and sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.

"I never wanted to hear you like this, Harry," he thought desperately. "I never wanted to break you. I love you for you, just the way you are. But I can't tell you that – I can never tell you that. This is – _we _are – impossible. We can't do this, Harry, we just can't! It's all so wrong."

And it was true. Here, they were just two teenagers in love. But to the outside world . . .

He was Draco Malfoy; only son and heir to the Malfoys – a family sworn to the dark side, to the Dark Lord . . .

He was Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived – a beacon of hope to the light side of the wizarding world . . .

Where they came from and what they stood for . . . They were just so different! It just wasn't meant to be.

"But we should at least enjoy this moment together," Draco thought. "No one can take this from us."

'Take me, Harry,' he said, almost pleading. 'I want to feel you inside me.'

In a few nimble moves akin to his Seeker skills, the Gryffindor reversed their positions so that he was on top. After gently peeling away Draco's robes and tossing them to the floor, Harry positioned himself over the Slytherin's entrance.

Draco looked up at Harry and gray met emerald, emotions were felt but never said, passion was shared and embraced . . .

"I love you," Draco tried to say through his eyes. "I love you, Harry, my Harry . . ."

Then there was bliss.

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Despite the amazing love-making that he and Harry had experienced, Draco's sleep was plagued with fitful scenes that night. His arms, which were wrapped around Harry's chest, trembled and a light sheen of sweat formed on his forehead.

His active movements woke Harry from his sleep and the brunet attempted to wake up his lover, but his efforts were in vain. Draco's mind was entangled too deeply in his dreams . . .

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'_Draco!' Lucius was yelling at his son, while Narcissa watched silently from the corner of the room. 'You have shamed me! You have shamed the Malfoy family! How could you have slept with . . . with Harry Potter?!' He spat out the name like a plague. 'How could you actually have allowed him to take you as a maiden would be?!'_

'_I love him, father,' Draco said between clenched teeth; his hands lay restless at his sides._

'_That's nice, Draco, but you're a Malfoy,' Lucius said. 'Such actions are not comely for one of such status. He is not good enough for you.'_

'_Lucius—' Narcissa began, but Lucius held up a hand to silence her._

'_Now is not the time to defend him, Narcissa,' Lucius said, not unkindly, to his wife. Then he returned his attention to his son, who was not cowering under his rage as he usually did, but was facing up to it with a fierce expression on his face. 'I forbid you from seeing Potter ever again! And you are not to attend Hogwarts any longer. You are to spend your time – day _and _night – out on the training fields with Avery. Do you understand me, Draco?'_

_Draco glared at his father through narrowed eyes and did not reply._

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_Now he and Harry were standing alone on a hilltop near Hogwarts. Their faces were flushed with blood . . . but it was the dark flush of anger, not passion._

'_Get it through your thick skull, Potter!' Draco was yelling at the top of his lungs. 'I don't love you. I don't even like you!'_

'_Why not, Draco?' Harry screamed, just as loudly as Draco. 'Why don't you love me?'_

"_I do," Draco thought. "But I can't . . . I shouldn't!"_

'_Because you're a filthy Gryffindor!' he replied lamely._

'_So that's it then. Because I'm a Gryffindor.'_

'_Yes,' Draco agreed, ignoring the cracks now forming in his heart._

'_You constantly mock me for being a Gryffindor, Malfoy,' Harry said, resuming the old habit of using Draco's surname. 'If I was from the Slytherin House, would you love me then?'_

_The blond didn't reply._

'_Would at least give me the chance to love you?' Harry demanded._

'_No!' Draco replied loudly. _

'_Why not?' Harry asked again._

'_Because you shouldn't love me! And I shouldn't love you . . .'_

"_But I do . . ."_

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_Again, Draco and Harry were alone. But this time, they were sitting together in "their" room, speaking calmly and reasonably to each other._

'_We aren't enemies, Draco,' Harry said._

'_What do you mean?' Draco asked. 'Of course we are.'_

'_No,' the Gryffindor insisted. 'We aren't. The only reason we've hated each other is because you are a Malfoy, an inherent follower of the Dark Lord. And I am a Potter who battles with the Dark Lord, as my parents did before me.'_

'_That seems like a pretty important distinction to me,' Draco said, trying to see where the brunet was going with this._

'_Don't you see though?' Harry inquired. 'It is only by our natures that we are enemies . . . but we have learned otherwise, haven't we? There is naught to loathe in each other but pride.' There was a brief pause, then, 'You do love me, don't you Draco?'_

'_Yes,' Draco admitted, something he would only do in this dream. 'I do love you, Harry.'_

'_And I love you . . . Draco, my dear Draco . . .'_

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Then Draco's dreams switched gears and, suddenly, he was no longer in a dream, but in a memory . . . his own memory.

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'_Malfoy,' the vision-Harry said from the Mirror of Niap. 'I do not love you. I only want you for your body. I only want to fuck you, knowing that I am fucking the great Draco Malfoy. Other than that, I want nothing to do with you! You are nothing to me, Malfoy! Nothing! . . . I am a Potter. Potters do not get involved with such scum like you. We only use people like you for our own pleasures. But you're different, since you're Draco Malfoy. I must admit, I'm not just using you as I would others . . . I am also trying to hurt you. We are enemies, Malfoy, stupid Malfoy. If you really knew me by now, you would know that I only want to hurt you. I do not care about such things as your feelings. I do not care about you and I will certainly never love you, not in a million years! I do not love you, Malfoy, and you shouldn't love me!'_

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After much shaking and calling, Harry was finally able to coax Draco to wakefulness. The Slytherin suddenly sat bolt upright in the dark and his gray eyes immediately pierced through the darkness to find the Gryffindor watching nearby. Draco's usual defenses were weakened by his weary state and his confident hands were quivering uncontrollably, a fact that Harry couldn't help but notice.

'Draco?' the brunet inquired uncertainly.

That one word – coupled with the vision of Harry's worried features in the dark – shattered Draco's defenses completely. He crumpled into his lover's waiting arms and broke down in tears, murmuring Harry's name over and over again.

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	10. Chapter X

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**( Chapter X )**

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The very next morning at breakfast, Draco received the shortest note that he had received all term. The note contained only one word: _Tonight._ There was no signature . . . but the letter was delivered by the Malfoys very own eagle owl, so it could have only been sent by one person. Draco was hoping that the plan (which he had secretly been arranging with his father over the past few weeks, albeit with no enthusiasm) would be put off for at least a few more days, but since it hadn't, he knew he had no choice but to carry it out.

"Forgive me, Harry," he thought anxiously, burying his head in his hands.

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Later that day, Draco saw Harry sitting alone, reading a book about Quidditch. The Gryffindor's feet were in the lake; nearby, the giant squid's tentacles waved lazily about the water. Gathering up what little strength he had for his task, Draco approached his lover for what he hoped would not be the last time.

'Meet me tonight,' he said simply, making Harry start.

'What?' Harry asked, confused.

'Meet me tonight,' Draco repeated impatiently.

'In the room?'

'No, by the front gate,' Draco said, already turning away. 'At midnight. Bring your Invisibility Cloak. I don't want you getting caught by Filch before I've had my fun.' he added, glancing over his shoulder suggestively.

Harry blushed and watched as Draco walked away.

 'Wait!' he suddenly called out, jumping to his feet.

Draco turned around.

'Why do you want to meet me by the gate?' Harry asked, walking towards the Slytherin.

'I want to show you something,' Draco replied after the briefest of pauses, which Harry noticed nonetheless.

'Really?' He looked at Draco with his deep, green eyes. 'Is everything all right?'

'Of course,' Draco replied as coldly as he could. 'Why wouldn't it be?'

Harry shrugged.

'I don't know . . . It's just . . . different from what we usually do,'

'Well, I'm getting bored of you,' Draco said. 'If there's a chance of getting caught, it makes this thing between us more exciting' He grabbed Harry's chin in his hand and forced it upwards.

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_Hold me . . ._

_Kiss me . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

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'Doesn't it?' he asked, allowing his lips to brush over Harry's.

Harry shivered in response.

'So you'll come tonight?' Draco asked, slipping his tongue out to lightly lick Harry's mouth.

The Gryffindor nodded.

'Good.' Then they kissed. It was as if time stood still. It was just them, two teens . . . two enemies . . . in love . . .

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_Don't ever leave me . . ._

_Don't ever let me go . . ._

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At quarter to midnight that night, Harry excused himself from the game of Exploding Snap he was playing with the twins in the Common Room. Feigning sleepiness, he made his way upstairs to retrieve his Invisibility Cloak . . . where two familiar faces greeted him.

'Getting ready for bed?' Ron asked suspiciously.

'Not exactly,' Harry said, pulling out his cloak from his trunk.

'You're going to meet Draco?'

'Yeah,' Harry replied. 'Are there any other questions? Or can I just go?'

There was a brief pause in which Ron looked like he wanted to yell at Harry, but when he spoke, his words were quite calm. 'We don't think you should go.'

'Why? Because we're supposed to be "enemies"?' Harry asked coldly. 'We've been through this before.'

'It's not that!' Ron snapped angrily.

'We think that Malfoy is up to something, Harry,' Hermione said.

'You always think that,' Harry said impatiently, 'just because of who his father is .'

'That's Ron you're thinking of,' she muttered.'

Harry sighed.

'Still . . . I trust him, Hermione.'

'We don't,' Ron muttered. 'But fine! If you want to go meet him and do the nasty and get hurt and whatever, that's your business!'

'Yes, it is!' Harry almost screamed.

'Stop it! Both of you!' Hermione said loudly.

The two teens went silent, but continued to glare at each other across the room.

'Say whatever you want to say, Hermione,' Harry said, 'but make it quick or I'm going to be late.'

'The room isn't that far from here, is it?'

'No, it isn't, but I'm going to meet him at the front gate tonight.'

Hermione paled visibly.

'Why?'

'He said he wants to show me something,' Harry said. 'In Hogsmeade, I guess.'

'Do you really believe that crap?' Ron muttered under his breath. 'It's obvious he's just trying to lure you away from the school.'

'That might be what you think, but I trust him,' Harry said again, rounding on Ron. 'I love him.'

'Does he love you back?' Hermione asked seriously.

Harry did not answer.

'Look, I have to go,' he said instead.

'Fine, then we're coming with you?' Hermione said stubbornly.

'What?' Harry and Ron asked together.

Hermione glared at them both.

'Well, if Malfoy really does just want to show you something, then us being there will be harmless.'

'I don't remember agreeing to go,' Ron said, crossing his arms.

'Don't be such a baby, Ron. You know that we can't just let Harry go alone.'

' And why not?' Harry asked, affronted. 'I am more than capable of taking care of myself, and what if he wants to show me something personal? You know, for my eyes only?'

'Eurgh!' Ron exclaimed, wrinkling his nose.

'I didn't mean that!' Harry snapped.

 'Oh, come on, Harry,' Hermione said. 'I know that you can take care of yourself . . . but just humour me, okay? In case it's something . . .'

'Evil?' Ron suggested. 'Personally, if he's being this stubborn, I don't want to go.'

'Ron!' Hermione said. 'Remember the other stuff we talked about? You're as worried about him as I am!'

'I highly doubt that.'

'What other stuff?' Harry asked. 'Are you talking about me behind my back?'

'There seems to be a lot of that going on these days . . .' Ron muttered.

Hermione ignored him.

'Harry, something happened this morning. Malfoy received a note from home.'

'Ooh, how surprising,' Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione continued, unfazed.

'He _just _received a note from home . . . No packages . . . Nothing!'

'So? Maybe his owl lost it.'

'No . . . I think it was something else. Something . . .'

'Evil?' Ron suggested again.

'Shut up, Ron!'

'So? What am I supposed to say to that?' Harry asked. '"Thank you for spying on him for me"? "Maybe his package was invisible"? Give me a break . . . I'm leaving.'

'Not without us, you're not!' Hermione said. 'You can either let us go under the cloak with you or we'll follow you the entire way and let Filch catch all of us!'

'You wouldn't!'

But from the look in Hermione's eye, Harry knew that she was serious.

'Fine, get under the cloak!' he snapped. 'Quick! I'm already late.'

'Can't leave Mr. Dunghead waiting,' Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.

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'Where is he?' Bellatrix asked Draco impatiently.

'I don't know, Aunt Bella. He should be here by now,' Draco replied, glancing over at the bushes on the other side of the gate where Avery and the other Death Eaters were hiding.

"Don't come, don't come, don't come," Draco pleaded in his head. "Don't come, don't come . . ."

'Well, let us know when you see him coming, so we can prepare for his arrival,' Avery said sinisterly.

'I will not _see _him coming,' Draco snapped loudly. 'He'll obviously be wearing his Invisibility Cloak.'

'Don't speak so loudly, Draco,' Bellatrix said.

But speaking loudly was all a part of Draco's own plan. He hoped that if Harry heard him talking, the Gryffindor would listen long enough to figure out what was going on. Harry would probably hate him, but it was the only way to save his life.

Moments passed by, the silence only broken by the sound of the wind rustling the leaves of the bushes and trees nearby.

"Don't come, don't come, don't come . . ."

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_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

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"Oh no . . ." Draco groaned inwardly when he heard approaching footsteps rustling the grass.

'Harry? Is that you?' he asked nervously, hoping for nothing but silence. 

'Yes,' Harry replied.

'Keep your cloak on,' Draco said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. 'Don't take it off until we're off the grounds.'

'Okay,' Harry whispered.

Draco unlocked the gate with a flick of his wand and pulled it open, making it creak ever so slightly. Then he, Harry, and (although Draco didn't know it) Ron and Hermione slipped out of the grounds . . . unseen and unheard by any of the inhabitants within the castle.

'Where are we going?' Harry asked.

'You'll see,' Draco replied neutrally. 'It's not far from here.'

_Snap!_

A twig cracked behind them. Draco ducked for cover behind a nearby tree, while Harry whipped out his wand and turned towards the source of the sound, causing the cloak to slip off.

'Harry, look out!' exclaimed a disembodied voice.

Not a second later, stunning spells were fired in all directions, the red sparks shooting out of the bushes surrounding him.

'Protego!' a female voice said, blocking the curses.

'There!' Lucius yelled. 'The voice came from there! His little friends are with him, wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Get them!'

'Kill them if you must!' Bellatrix commanded. 'The Dark Lord only wants Potter alive!'

There was now a combination of red and green sparks coming from the bushes, concentrating on the empty space beside Harry. Two soft _flumps _told Draco that the people hiding under the cloak – likely Weasley and Granger – had collapsed. Whether they were stunned or dead, he did not know.

'Draco! Help!' Harry cried out suddenly, as the bulk of the curses turned on him again.

The plea in Harry's voice broke Draco's heart.

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_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

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He stepped out from behind the tree and pointed his wand at Harry.

'No,' Harry said brokenly. 'No!'

There was more than enough time for Harry to react, but he remained frozen; Draco could only assume that he was too shocked to do anything but stare.

'I'm sorry,' the Slytherin whispered.

'No . . .'

'Stupefy!'

And his lover fell to a heap in front of him.

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_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

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"I can't believe you're mine . . . but it would be easier if you weren't . . . I'm sorry, Harry . . . I love you . . . Forgive me . . ."

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Harry woke up with a splitting headache and it took him a few minutes to figure out what was going on. His face was pressed against the ground and his forehead was throbbing mercilessly with what he knew was a bump, probably from when he had fallen. The two figures pressing heavily into his sides could only be Ron and Hermione.

'You have done well, Malfoy,' a silky voice was saying to Lucius.

A shiver ran through Harry's spine and he hoped that it was diminutive enough that no one had noticed.

'Thank you, my lord,' a shaky voice replied.

Harry froze. That was not Lucius Malfoy who replied, it was . . .

Tears leaked out of the teen's clenched eyes . . . No, it couldn't be . . . But it had to be . . .

 'You even brought Potter's little friends . . . They will be dead soon, of course – all of them will be . . . But it should be amusing to watch Potter's face as his friends die around him. Have they been stripped of their wands?'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Good. Wake Potter up, Wormtail.'

A pair of rough hands pulled Harry up by his collar and directed his face towards the torchlight; Harry could see the light flickering behind his closed lids.

'Wait . . . Our guest of honour is already awake.'

Harry suddenly found himself being thrown back onto the ground and he groaned in discomfort. Around him, the Death Eaters laughed at his pain and humiliation.

'Come now, Potter, stand up and face me like a man,' Voldemort said.

Knowing that it was useless to continue feigning unconsciousness, he forced himself to stand up and face the Dark Lord. They appeared to be in an abandoned castle. Thick, iron torches were placed in the brackets around the room, lending a bright, orange glow. The rug beneath his feet was ragged and faded, much like the once-majestic tapestries that decorated the walls.

Harry saw Draco and his father kneeling before the Dark Lord; the Slytherin's wide, grey eyes were watching him as he swayed unsteadily on his feet.

Bellatrix approached him and roughly grabbed his chin. Her long fingernails pressed deep into his flesh and he wouldn't have been surprised if she broke the skin. He suddenly became aware of the wetness on his cheeks, likely emphasized by the dirt that his face was pressed into.

'Tears, Potter?' Bellatrix laughed, shoving him away unceremoniously. 'Don't be afraid, itty, bitty baby. You won't be hurting for too long.'

'Don't lie to him, Bellatrix,' Voldemort said. 'Potter should know what he is going to be facing.' The ghost of a smile flitted on his lips as he said, 'Crucio!'

It felt like a thousand knives were ripping into Harry's body. It was pain beyond pain . . . but he refused to cry out. That's what Voldemort would have wanted. Oh, the pain! It was so much! Too much! Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, the curse was lifted. Sweat was dripping down his pale face.

'That was just an appetizer,' Voldemort said, making his Death Eaters laugh harder than they already were. 'Wormtail, wake up his little friends. Crabbe, Goyle, restrain them.'

Wormtail pointed his wand at Ron, then Hermione, murmuring, 'Enervate.'

Harry could feel fear clenching his heart as Ron and Hermione stirred. They were his best friends, the ones who were always there for him . . . He couldn't even remember why they were arguing earlier – it didn't matter now.

'Harry . . .' Hermione groaned, glancing up at the brunet from the floor. 'Ron . . .'

'Shut it, mudblood!' Bellatrix snapped.

Crabbe and Goyle suddenly grabbed Ron and Hermione, both pulling them to their feet and restraining them from doing anything else.

'Ron, Hermione, I'm sorry,' Harry said. 'I should have listened to you. It's my fault we're here.'

'Don't make me laugh,' Lucius said, rising to his feet. 'Do you think you could have escaped the Dark Lord forever. No, Potter, he knows, he always knows.'

'That will do, Malfoy,' Voldemort said.

'Let them go!' Harry said.

The Death Eaters laughed.

'There is only one way out of here, Potter,' Voldemort said, fingering his wand. 'I think you know how . . . Now, which one shall be my first victim.' He pointed his wand at Ron, then at Hermione. 'This one . . . Crucio!'

Hermione screamed and starting writhing about in Goyle's arms. He threw her to the floor in disgust, where she continued to twist about in pain.

'Hermione' Ron shouted.

'Don't worry, there's some for you too,' Bellatrix said with a dark smile. 'Crucio!'

'AHH!'

'Stop!' Harry cried out, fresh tears rolling down his grimy face. 'Stop it!'

Voldemort and Bellatrix lowered their wands.

'Did you want some too, Potter?' Voldemort asked. 'Or do you just want to die? Be careful what you wish for, Potter. There's no counter-curse for death. You – of all people – know that.'

Harry did not reply.

Voldemort scarlet eyes roamed over his Death Eaters, who had stopped laughing now that he was looking so serious.

'Malfoy,' he said.

Both Lucius and Draco started.

'Not you, Lucius,' Voldemort said, 'your son.'

Trembling slightly, Draco stood up from his kneeling position and faced the Dark Lord.

'Yes, my lord?'

'Perform the Cruciatus Curse on Potter.'

Draco's eyes widened.

'Did you hear me, Draco?' Voldemort asked darkly.

'Go on, Draco,' Lucius hissed, nudging his son in the back.

'No!' Ron and Hermione shouted, but they were both immediately restrained by Crabbe and Goyle.

With a blank look on his face, Draco stepped towards Harry with his wand raised. Stormy eyes met emerald ones . . . Moments passed, moments where unspoken words were shared . . .

'What are you waiting for, Draco?' Lucius snapped impatiently. 'Do it!'

"I'm sorry," Draco's eyes seemed to say.

Then . . .

'Crucio.'

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Harry was writhing . . . Harry was in pain because of him . . . Harry was dying . . .

'No, it's not Harry!' Draco tried to convince his subconscious. 'I'm _not _hurting Harry! Harry is safe at home! This isn't Harry!'

But try as he might, he could not do it. After what felt like an eternity passed (although in reality, it was only a few seconds), Draco lowered his wand.

The Death Eaters were laughing, but Lucius had a stern look upon his face.

'That's it, Draco?' he asked. 'I thought you were better trained than that!'

Draco didn't say a word.

'Pathetic,' the Dark Lord said. He waved his wand and Draco felt himself being thrown into the crowd of Death Eaters, who shoved him about until he was out of their way; they didn't want to miss any of the fun. 'I will show you how it is done.'

This time, instead of the Cruciatus Curse, Draco was forced to see Harry being thrown about . . . Onto the floor, into the walls, against the ceiling . . . Draco heard more than a few cracks and he was sure that Harry had a broken arm and at least a few cracked ribs.

'Stop!' Granger shrieked, tears streaming down her face.

'Stop hurting him!' Weasley yelled, angrily struggling against Crabbe's hold on him.

But, of course, the Dark Lord ignored them.

Harry was screaming now and blood was dripping thickly from his limbs.

It was too much to take.

'Stop!' Draco suddenly cried out, the scream surprising even himself. He felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him.

None of the Death Eaters were laughing now; Granger and Weasley, too, were staring at him.

Ignoring them all, Draco ran forwards to cradle Harry's broken form.

'Harry!' he called. He gazed at the once-handsome face, which was now cut and swollen. 'Harry!' He shook the mangled body, trying to wake his lover. 'Harry!'

A sliver of green met his eyes.

'Oh, Harry,' Draco wept, burying his face into Harry's sticky hair; his tears dripped onto Harry's bloody face.

'Draco,' Harry whispered.

'What is going on here?' Lucius demanded.

'Draco, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' Bellatrix screamed. 'Get away from him!'

'No.'

'Get away!'

'No!' Draco screamed.

'Oh, isn't this precious?' Dolohov sneered. 'Your son, Lucius, cares for the Potter boy.'

The Death Eaters seemed uncertain whether or not to laugh. The Dark Lord continued to watch the scene in silence.

'That's nonsense,' Lucius snapped. 'Draco, get away from him!'

'No, father! I love him . . .'

'Traitor!' Bellatrix screamed. 'You have chosen the losing side, Draco.'

'Draco, you are not in your right mind,' Lucius said angrily. 'You do not love him – you _desire_ him. Come back to us. You can become a great man, with power and glory. You can work with our lord to achieve great things.'

Draco raised his head to face his father, but he did not loosen his hold around Harry.

'That's the different between you and me. You want that stuff, father. I don't.'

The look of fury that came upon Lucius' face was frightening to behold.

'Then you are no son of mine,' he spat.

'I don't care!' Draco hissed. 'I'm with Harry now! I love him!'

'Then you shall be the one to kill him,' the Dark Lord said, taking action at last. 'Imperio.'

Draco filled with dread upon hearing that word. He had not practiced, he was in a weak state of mind . . . he could not resist the curse. A spell of blissful emptiness came upon him; he was just . . . there. Then a voice spoke to him . . .

'Crucio,' Draco said soon after, following the Dark Lord's command.

Harry was on his hands and knees, crying out in pain.

'Harry!' Weasley screamed.

'Stop it!' Hermione wept.

On his lord's command, Draco lifted the curse and, since he was not hindered, he rushed forwards to Harry's side. He stared at the damaged teen before him, disbelieving that he was still alive.

'Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I couldn't help it,' Draco muttered brokenly, tears streaming down his face. 'I love you.' He kissed Harry's chapped lips. 'I love you so much. I'm so sorry.'

'I love you too, Draco,' Harry whispered against his lips. 'I forgive you . . . Hold me . . .'

0000000000

_Hold me . . ._

_Kiss me . . ._

_I'm yours . . ._

_Don't ever leave me . . ._

_Don't ever let me go . . ._

_You're the most important person in the world to me . . ._

_You're everything . . ._

_You're perfect . . ._

_I can't believe you're mine . . ._

0000000000

There was a green light . . .

Then there was nothing.

0000000000

The end.


End file.
